The Pianist
by ElenaBolton20
Summary: "You refuse to see anything good with your eyes, therefore you must learn to see with your heart." He opens his eyes, seeing black nothingness. He's blind, with only his piano his source to take him to that world that all of this is just a dream, a horrible dream where he can wake up at anytime; but he knows its a lie. Cause when he wakes up, he's blind...xXTroyellaXx
1. Chapter 1

**"The Pianist"**

**~Prologue~**

**Once upon a time**, there's a castle; surrounded by trees that bend into arches and rivers that bend and turn around it into circles. The castle itself is marvelous in its height as it towers it's neighboring forests and molehills. Awe-inspiring in the bright sun of dawn to the intimate glimmer of dusk. The walls are white marble, red and gold flags shimmy in the breeze. Oh, but the sky isn't a clear blue-at least not today. The clouds, grey as the bleakest night, invade these skies like hands; hands of beggars reaching for something they cannot get to. It isn't long until the first drop of rain falls.

A low, melancholy sound drifts from the west tower of the castle. Balcony doors opened, and curtains billowing. Tan fingers, long and skilled, fly gracefully over the keys of the small oak piano. A constrated look on the master's face, his tongue just overhanging his bottom lip.

High note to low note, a soft river of this melancholy tune surrounds him; his painted world surrounding him in various hues and colours. Like the real world is naught but a vague memory-

"Ahem." He stops abruptly, standing up quickly; nearly knocking over the vase of flowers that stand just on the top cover of the piano. His eyes are set in a tight, blank mask as he stares at the pathetic servant man standing at the door; the poor soul is fidgeting with a loose string on his tunic. The master clears his throat, clasping his hands behind his back and glaring at the fellow.

"What?!" He half yells, half orders. The servant man swallows fearfully, not making eye contact- the master detests eye contact from any body that is not his mother or father or any other family member.

"Uh..I-I...it's.."

"Speak up." He orders in a clipped tone, the servant looks up but his eyes fall to the left. His fingers gone from fidgeting with that loose string to knotting them together in anxious nerves.

"I-I...your parents call for you-"

"Blast it," the master mutters, running a hand through his hair; dark brown that is always in a ponytail just at the base of his neck, a blue tie tying it in place. His blue eyes hidden beneath dark, thick lashes. "Why didn't you come sooner if my parents have been calling for me?"

"Well-"

"Nevermind." He says cruelly, "Just go about your chores. Now. Go!" The servant man swallows more prominently, and turns quickly to leave the masters room. He pinches the bridge of his nose theatrically, tiredly, before he clears his throat and picks off the invisible lint that always seems to be on his shoulder and arms. He walks out of the double doors of the sitting room that is adjointed to his bedchamber. He sighs real quick, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his breeches and walking out of his bedchamber and to his parents chamber-wait, it's the middle of the day; perhaps they are in the library..most likely. His mother favours a good book over anything else after the noon meal.

The hall is marble and granite with streams of white gold, giving the illusion of one walking on glass. His heels clack on the ground, his mind drifting to the song he played on the piano before he was rudely interrupted. 'Stupid servant' he grumbles mentally, 'I'd have his head...but no, mother and father say 'no'.' He rolls his eyes, he is nearly 19 years; a man, he should make some rules around here...but alas, his parents treat him as if he's 9. 9!

Exiting the hall, he enters the foyer; entry of a large doublestair case that looms over it greatly; red and gold flags that wave proudly the emblem that was once spread all over the village before Evans took over. 'One day,' he thinks, 'We'll have our land back'- "Our land, our ruling, our-"

"Troy," he doesn't even jump at the voice, he knows who it is.

"Father." He says in the same clipped tone he used prior on his servant. "You and mother-"

"Have been meaning to speak with you." Does he turn around? No.

"What is it you want then? I'm here." A deep sigh, he can picture his father pinching the bridge of his nose and crossing his well-muscled arms over his chest and just before he speaks, his mother, Lorana, steps out from behind the double door of the library and takes a tentative step toward her only son and heir.

"Troy, we must talk about your behaviour...how-how you need to be more kind-"

"Kind." He scoffs, spitting the word on his tongue like he has just drank a vile of acid, he spins on his heel to face his parents. "Kind? Am I not?"

"No, you are not." David, former king David Bolton, sneers at his son, taking a dangerous step forward. "I doubt you know the meaning of the very word-you act like a spoiled child, expecting everything to be handed to you-"

"Cause it is!" Troy yells in a raised voice, "everything is handed to me! I ask, I receive! That's how I grew up!"

"But it's not how we raised you!" Lorana screams, it's the same with him. Always. Troy shakes his head, "if you've called me to have this conversation again then I'll be in my room for the rest of the day, and I'll see you both at supper."

"Fine." David says through gritted teeth, "might as well stay up there rest of the night then-"

"Don't punish me, father." Troy sneers, "you've tried that when I was a boy...it didn't work. I always get what I want, taking no prisoners." Slap! His head snaps to the right, Lorana's hand stings from the pressure she put behind the hit; she doesn't say anything after that, just stares into the blue eyes that matched his fathers. Troy doesn't flinch a finger, a palm or even a hand to place on his cheek. He holds her gaze.

"I love you Troy...but not when you are-are...are this beast." She whispers, turning around and walking down the left side of the double stairs; her dark brown hair flouncing its curls until she hit the landing. David grabs his son by the shoulders and forces him to see into his eyes.

"Behave." He hisses, "I am not afraid to take leather hide to your ass and beat it till it's read! Your mother and I love you a great deal-" Troy yanks himself from his father's grasp.

"If it's pity or guilt that your trying to bestow upon me-"

"No." David says, "I just want my son back. Me and your mother both do, you're not the same as the child that grew up here." Troy looks after his father, watching him walking down the same flight of stairs that Lorana had walked down; he heaves a great sigh and turns on his heel to walk back to his bedchamber. His fingers itching and twitching to the play that same, melancholy melody.

* * *

**Hours have passed,** the clock tolls the hour as eight thirty. Troy hasn't left his bedchamber, and he most certainly hasn't eaten anything yet; he suspects his parents have left, usually after fights- even ones as bad as this one -they'd come up and they all sit around while Troy plays the piano in a flawless flourish. But tonight? Nothing. His bedchamber doors remain closed and locked tight. His shoulders has an edge to them; the tenseness set by the argument that he had had with his parents earlier...but, somehow this tenseness seems...different. Stopping his flourish, he stands from his piano- his fingers running on the smooth surface. He looks at the door again, nothing.

His shoes click on the stone floor, his fingers curve around the handle and he swiftly pulls it open to an eerily quiet hallway. He takes a step out in the hall, feeling suddenly very anxious- like something is about to jump out at him. His breathing is shallow and his steps are cautious. "Mother?" He calls out, looking over his shoulder occasionally, "Father?" No response to both, he reaches the foyer; pausing at the top of the stairs to look over the large, white marble foyer. A smile forming his lips in a small curve. When the days that his family did rule, they'd host parties and balls; both of the most elegant and grandest form; the pleasantries that these memories make him feel...he almost sighs; and he would've, had he not heard a ratitat tapping noise on the door. He looks around for his servants, he is tempted to call out for them but resigns against the urge; he has two legs and feet right? Sneering at the thought, he walks down the stairs his parents walked down and to the huge, massive double door at the entrance.

"What is it?!" He barks, the door is open and he's staring at three faces; three identical faces. Their eyes are shrewd and taut in the meekest of squints, their hair; dark but with grey strands; clings to their faces with water droplets that had fallen- that are falling.

"Kind sir," the middle one says softly, her nose a giant hook hanging off her face and on the very tip is a mole the size of Troy's thumb nail. "It is cold and wet, as are my sisters and I, would you mind if we stay for the night to-"

"Yes, I would mind. Go away." He almost shuts the door, but one of the woman shouts in a withered, pleading voice, so he opens the door and crosses his arms over his chest; he loves to hear pleading when he has the mood for it. It...amuses him. "Shelter?" He asks, "that's what you seek?"

The three women nod anxiously, their wet hair flopping about their faces. He smirks, "then...what do you have for payment?" Their eyes slightly widen, but the one on the left looks at him under scrutiny.

"We ask you kindly for shelter from this storm and you ask for payment?"

"My castle-"

"It's a simple, generous gesture we ask for...we have naught but three pieces of bread in our pockets!" Troy rolls his eyes, leaning his hip against the door and sneering at the three of them.

"My castle; my parents and mine, really, we don't let just anyone in-"

"FOOL!" The one on the left yells, jabbing a crooked finger at his chest. "Your parents are kind-hearted people; to everyone and you! Yet you treat them like dogs! Like...filthy mongrels that sleep in dirt and eat dead carcasses! If you so feel that way about your own parents-"

"You dare speak to me in such a manner?!" He yells back, he waves a hand at them and shoves the third one back with a harsh roughness. "Away with all of you! You get no shelter!" The door slams shut, the three women stand there with bravado and link their hands together, their eyes shut and their lips trembling as they send prayers and whispers up to that tower window where Troy had stomped off too; heavy, loud, and deep piano notes drifting through the air to the three pairs of ears below.

* * *

**His fingers fly** over the keys of the piano with languid grace, his muscles tense and his eyes nearly closed as the angry passion flows out of him and into the music that pours from the ebony keys. His breath coming out in ragged puffs, his shoulders hunch over as he plays and plays...and then he abruptly stops when a strong wind comes - literally - from nowhere; he's picked up and thrashed against the wall. A shrill scream enters both his ears and rattles his head; his arms seem to be pinned at his sides, he can only kick his legs.

Then there's the voices; whispering and yelling and hissing inside his head, he thrashes his chin from side to side as he kicks his legs on the wall. Blast! Where's his mother and father? What's happening?

"Fool!" A voice hisses in his ear, at the same sudden moment when he's thrown onto the piano edge, he sucks in a breath of pain when the base of his spine hits the hard oak.

"Who are you?!" He yells over the strong wind; this is not a natural wind...natural wind does not pick up a person like it has two hands. "Answer me!-oof!" his head snaps to the side, he falls to ground where his he catches his fall with his palms.

"You have a soul that's as ugly as the ugliest face one can imagine; the ugliest that a man can be born with!" The wind surrounds him, he can barely lift his head to see that the wind has colour...and is falling to mesh together to form a person; a being. When it's finished blending and meshing, he's in awe of what's in front of him.

A woman, with long black hair to the floor and a gown of red and black and white gossamer and satin. Her eyes are blank but with a kindness, her skin is smooth dark chocolate; her teeth are shimmering white as she opens her mouth to speak. Her voice is...something that Troy hasn't heard before; but he's heard them before. Yes, 'them'...the woman-this ONE woman- spoke with the three conjoined voices of the woman he turned away at the door moments prior to this.

He hasn't felt more terrified. "Who are-"

"You treat your mother and father like mongrels...like dirt that's beneath you." He swallows, "What do you want-"

"Hush!" She shushes, waving her hand and from the bodice of her gown she pulls out a stick with knots in the fine wood, at the tip is a fine point and a glowing diamond. "You cannot treat your parents like the humans they are; like the man and woman who gave you life and brought you into this world! Like dogs you treat them, so dogs they shall become!" She waves the stick, in a sweeping motion that ends in a grand circle. "And you..." she points a perfect, slender finger at him and he feels his eyes widen slightly.

"Please..." he whispers, he won't beg. He doesn't beg. "What do you wan-"

With her three voices, she spoke, "when you saw us at the door...you turned us away. Because we are different? Because we aren't like you."

"No-"

"Yes!" The three voices from one throat yell, jabbing the finger at him again. "With your eyes you don't- and you refuse -to see anything that is good in life! Therefore your punishment shall be-"

"No!" He yells,managing to stand on his shaking legs. "What have I done to deserve-"

"You know what you've done!" The three voices yell, "and it is not just you being punished! Your parents! Your servants! Everyone in this castle residing shall be punished!"

"I've done nothing!" Troy yells, trying shove passed the woman but she grabs at his neck and tosses him upon the wall; holding him tight by the shoulder and her wand waving in front of his eyes. Her eyes are dark and flat; void of any sort of emotion as her three voices speak with the same benevolent tone.

"You refuse to see good with your eyes, there for you must learn to see with your heart. Your gift of music the only beautiful thing we're leaving with you...the only beautiful thing that may be able to salvage what's left of your soul, Troy Bolton." He closes his eyes, turning his face away from her but he hears her murmur and whisper and it's not long before he feels himself being dropped on the hard marble of his floor; his hands not catching his fall, his shoulder cracking slightly under the pressure. He just lies there, his eyes still closed and his breathing harsh and erratic.

And then he opens them...he see's nothing. Blackness.

He waves a hand in front of his face, he cannot see his action being performed.

He screams.

* * *

**New story! For the New Year! :) I am obsessed with plot lines that happen in the 16-1700s. Even the 1800s I'm obsessed with! I'm so born in the wrong century! Anyway, tell me what you think of the prologue in a review!  
**

**I want to try something new. Troy is going to start off being spoiled; a spoiled, selfish cur. You'll see more in later chapters on how he'll change how he is. Anyway, yeah...  
**

**The first official chapter will be posted on Dec. 31st; New Years Eve people! :D  
**

**~Elena  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**"The Pianist"**  
**~Chapter One~**

_18 Months later_

**The sun shines** bright in the sapphire sky, no clouds invade - unless one would count the occasional small, puffy white ones just hanging there against the blue. Which, no one really does because they're so small that no rain can be held in them. No rain, sleet, or hail. Which makes the small-for-her-size brunette smile widely. She has her brown hair, that is almost black in the right sort of light, usually it's in a high braid so it's given the illusion of being as long as the middle of her back but today she has down with no bounds to bind it from being an unruly haystack sitting atop her head. So it rests just above her buttocks.

Her skin, however tan and flawless from any sort of pimple, is marred on the left side of her face from when was very young and she had followed her papa out into the woods; she had run into a wolf with angry eyes and large shoulders; it cornered her against the stump of a tree before it had marred her flesh...she screamed and then her papa came running. Her left eye is now twisted at the corner and points down, her lips on the left side is set in a thin line that resembles a grimace. Her mother always smiled at her, coming her fingers through her daughters hair and saying "You have never looked more beautiful, My angel." Such kind words to make her smile. If it were true, then why is she 16 and still not engaged to a bachelor?

Sighing, she moves away from the window of her small room of her families small cottage. She runs her fingers through her hair as she stands on her feet, hobbling because she was born with a leg that is shorter than the other. Is that the cause for her single life? She sighs again, walking to the doorless hole in the wall and walking to the small wooden table where her papa and mama were sitting with her baby brothers and sisters. Five children, and she's the oldest.

"Gabriella," her mama says kindly, crows feet surrounding her hazel eyes as she holds a small in her arms. "Come sit, it's nearly noon-"

"I'm not hungry." Gabriella says, shaking her head and walking to the door hooks where her blue cloak hung on a tattered, splintered hook. Her papa, Gregor, had gotten up from the table and is holding her arm gently.

"Gabriella..." He whispers, trying not to look at her face. He blames himself, and Gabriella tells him over and over that it's not his fault that it happened to her. "You need eat-"

"I'll pick some berries in the woods, but I just...I need some air, papa." She says, kissing his cheek as she slips on her blue cloak and pulling up the hood so her ears are protected from the weather and elements; in the small village of Faerie the weather can change with a tap of a stick or a drop of a hat, a flutter of a cloak. Gregor watches from the small, square window as Gabriella disappeared behind a huge trunked tree and thorny bushes. He sighs, turning back to his wife and sitting at the table when his youngest daughter comes bounding to him and climbing on his lap.

"She'll be fine, Gregor." His wife says, a sad, sympathetic smile on her lips. He smiles sadly back at her.

"I know she will be, she's strong...but she's my little girl." She holds the small infant in one arm, taking her free hand to caress his small double shin. He looks at her with the same eyes that Gabriella has. "I just wish she didn't follow me that day-"

"It wasn't your fault, Gregor..she's told you this; she'll be fine. She's your daughter half the time. Stubborn." Gregor chuckles, ruffling his youngest daughters hair- thank goodness that she is only 2 years, and can scarcely talk; but she has taken to chewing on almost everything she can get her grubby, fingers on. Gregor smiles, taking his finger from her mouth- only to have her whine and grab it again to put it back. "This one is your child-"

"I don't chew on everything." She laughs, Gregor shakes his head and waggles his eyebrows. "What do you call it when we're in our room?"

"Gregor!" She half-yells, her eyes wide in partial shock at what her husband had just said; and in front of the children too! The nerve of him!

"Oh come now, Marina," he says, his previous angst gone. "It's only jesting in good humour-"

"Is that what you call it?" She huffs, standing up from the table and adjusting the small babe so he's on her shoulder and she starts rubbing and patting his back gently. Gregor sighs, standing up and carrying the small girl in his arms as well.

"Only a jest, my dear." He says warmly, she turns to him.

"Not in front of our children, Gregor. They shouldn't hear things like that-"

"So I had said it at an inopportune moment-"

"'inopportune'!? Is that what you call it?!" She yells, the baby boy in her arms beginning to fuss from their raised voices. She sighs, rubbing his back and murmuring in his tiny ear. "It's okay, Sweeting." she hushes, staring at her husband with eyes that could kill if they were physical weapons. He nods and goes to the front window to watch where his oldest had gone off, then he looks at the little girl in his arms- happily nibbling on his finger and her eyelids half drooping. He smiles and kisses her smooth forehead, then he rests his cheek on her skin.

"When you're older, Lana, you won't go anywhere without me." He whispers softly, sitting on the floor with his legs drawn up.

* * *

**The woods were**always her favourite place to be; even after what had happened with the wolf when she was naught but a girl. Her sister Lana is the same age that Gabriella was when the wolf attacked her. Her hands stuffed in the pockets of her cloak and her hair falling out of the hood- she should've binded it with some sort of bind before she left. A ribbon? A piece of twine? String? Instead she has to make do with pushing her hair out of the way with her hands only to have it fall in her face again.

Her ankles hurt like the dickens, but she kept walking on. Her stomach growls with hunger but she ignores it; she'd pick some berries when she came across them...which the bush should be near by soon enough. With the anticipation of berries, she walks faster. Her short leg pains her cause she's never walked so much on it before, but she's not about to stop and turn around.

Twigs snap under the weight of her sandalled feet, and her moth eaten dress keeps getting caught on branches that'd fallen in the nights angry storm and roots that like to stick out of the ground and trip any one who walks this footpath in these woods that surrounds the village.

* * *

**It's been months**since he's lost his sight, months since his fingers touched the ivory keys of his piano. He would wave a hand in front of his face, blink several times; nothing changed this outcome. He always saw darkness. He lets out a sigh, sitting straight on his mattress and running his fingers through his hair. What time is it? He reaches his hand to a warm spot on his bed where the noon sun had warmed it a bit, "Noon...a little after." he murmurs, shaking his head as he throws his legs over the edge of his bed. Eighteen months, his fingers twitch every time his thoughts come to the piano; every time there's a melody in his head that has to be spilled on to his keys. He's fought the urge till now, with his hands stretched out and fingers stiff as sticks, he walks toward where the piano is. At least, he thinks it's the piano.

Focused on his mission to get to the piano, he doesn't hear the door squeak open; or the protest of the hinges as it creaks. "Troy." His mother says, "What are you doing?" He takes another step, curses softly and rubs his calf.

"What did I bump into?" He asks, ignoring her question. Lorana sighs, walking toward her son and grasping his arm with her two hands that'd soon be two paws. Troy yanks his arm free of her, "I can walk!" she sighs, shaking her head.

"Troy, let me help-"

"No!" He yells, "I can walk! Blast it, I'm blind not an invalid who can't even use his legs!" He backs away rather quickly from his mother and falls back over a plush, dark leather ottoman. Lorana shrieks and grabs his arm again, but he shakes her off. "Just leave me.." he says, his voice betraying him of the emotion that he's always trying to hide; his voice cracks. Lorana kneels at his side, resting a palm on his cheek.

"Son," she whispers, "let me and your father help yo-"

"No.." he says, "Just...leave me, and go about your's and father's business."

"Troy Alexander James." She scolds, grabbing his chin in her small hand and staring into his eyes that are a paler blue than they usually are because of what had happened. "I'm your mother, and your father is David Bolton; we love you very much! Let us help you! Don't act like a selfish prat!" Troy would be staring his mother down if he could see her face. Only dark blackness.

His fingers twitch, he closes his eyes to the blackness that was more quiet than the blackness that surrounds him when he's awake. "I wish to be at the piano." He whispers, Lorana grasps his arm and helps him to his feet.

"Are you going to play a song?" She asks in a whisper of a wistful voice. Troy is un-answering. His mother just sighs, and guides him toward the piano bench. She almost helps him sit, but he shoves her away. "I can sit on my own, Mother." He hisses at her, she nods even though he cannot see and turns to leave the room. When he sits upon the stool of the piano, he starts in a light, airy melody that flows to a lighter yet heavier tune at the same time. He paints a picture in his mind with the music, hues of red and blue and orange and yellow and green swarm around him as the soft as psalm melodious notes float and flutter in his ears and around his body. Enrapturing his soul in their pleasant claws.

In this world, he can see the colours he paints with his whimsical music strokes. In this world, he can see each key, each note that he plays this song with. And then the notes drift to a softer air and the colours and hues and the memories of this world dim and disappear as soon as he stops playing the notes. He doesn't stop directly, his fingers immediately start a different song. The hues that surround him are a dark, midnight blue and a dark, iridescent purple with yellow and white candle light marking their signatures in the void. He feels warm, but sadness envelopes him as he plays such a melancholy tune. His breath comes out shallow and concentrated.

He doesn't hear his chamber door crack open and the heads of his parents poke in to listen to their son's playing.

* * *

**The sun is near**its time to disappear over the edge of the forests, Gabriella has yet to come across any berry bushes and the night chill is beginning to seep into her bones. Her bum leg is paining her, and she can no longer fight the urge to stop and rest. She pushes forward a bit to the small clearing that sits on the other side of a large oak tree and pine bush. She sits on a fallen tree, and rubs her short leg at the ankle. "Ah," she winces, poking lightly at the flesh on her ankle, it's swollen and warm to her touch. Oh, bugger, she rubs it more gently as a wind comes at her. She shrugs on her cloak so it's tighter around her small frame.

She hates being in the woods this close to the sunset; the animals come out at night, wolves and things that creep and crawl. She lifts her head to see her surroundings. Where is she? Trees, surrounded by large and tall trees that are oak-or pine- it's hard to tell which. The ground is covered in early autumn leaves and crushed twigs like something of great mass had stomped on them by running. She feels a prickle of fear tickle her scalp as she takes a cautious step back...

That's when she hears a low growl. "Please be my stomach." She whispers to herself, another growl and she turns slowly to the eyes-the yellow eyes- of a great wolf; it's teeth bared at her in hunger and anguish of not catching anything for a meal in a long while. "I just..don't hurt me.." she says to the wolf, her hand subconsciously going to her face where her skin is permanently marred by the wolf that had attacked her as a girl. "I just want to go home.." she closes her eyes as the wolf stalks closer and growls again, she takes a step back. Her cloak billowing in the sudden wind and her skin prickling in goose flesh at the nightly chill. Swallowing the bile of fear that had risen in her throat, she takes another step back that earned her another growl, she takes another step back and then she turns and runs.

Not caring in what direction she's running in, not caring that she might very well run off a giant hill or the edge of the world itself, but she runs just to avoid the wolf that is now chasing her. She sends a silent prayer to God and his angel, St. Michael, to guide her to safety.

She prays for safety...and the will to keep going on her leg that feels like a small, weak twig.

* * *

**Here it is! The first official chapter! I hope you like it! :D Let me know what you think! For the next chapter, I am asking for 5 reviews. Five.  
**

**Thanks to those who reviewed the prologue: Hopelessromanticgurl, londongirl (what are your numbers again?) and everybody else who I forget the names of lol anyway...Have Fun reading! Be sure to leave a lovely review of your opinion!  
**

**~Elena xx  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**"The Pianist"**  
**~Chapter Two~**

**Her breath came** out in frantic, erratic puffs as she ran through the now dark forests; pushing herself passed claw like branches reaching out to take her into their clutches. The wolf behind her seems to gain ground behind her. Her cloak's hood had fallen, her long hair flying behind her as she ran. Her ankle shooting a pain up her leg- why was she born with uneven legs? They are not of any use when running away! Her chest burns with the effort, she needs to rest...

* * *

**'He blames himself,** you know,' Lorana thinks in her wolf form, her head on her paws and her eyes looking at the pacing wolf form of her husband with his tail down and hears flat against his skull. She whines and stands, shaking out the loose hairs from her fur and she grabs him lightly by his tail to cease his pacing. 'Can you listen to me?' David looks at her, his wolfish eyes glinting in the just-risen moonlight.

'He needs to grow up, Lorana.' David thinks, shaking his wolf head and sitting on his haunches. Lorana sighs, sitting down on her haunches as well, before she nudges her husbands shoulder with her muzzle.

'He needs a chance too...'

'We've been giving him a chance!' David yells, standing up and pacing once again. Lorana whines and follows her husband's pacing body. David shakes his wolf head, stopping at the balcony that is just off his and his wife's chamber. 'Humiliating' he grumbles, flicking his tail. 'To be reduced to this...creatures on four legs-'

'Husband,' Lorana whimpers, coming up next to him and nuzzling his shoulder with her muzzle. 'Everything will be better again.' David sighs, turning toward her and looking at her with the same blue eyes that not only matched their son's but seemed to glow bright when he is a wolf.

'I love you,' he says in a soft voice; it's a wonder that he and Lorana can communicate as wolves, but their physical voices are nothing but growls, whines and howls. Like the animals they have been cursed to be. Lorana manages a smile in her wolf form, 'I love you too, dearest-'

"Help me!" The two of them raise their ears at the sound of the frightened voice, it had come from some distance away but not too far that they couldn't run the distance to see what it was. David looks at his wife and then turns to run down the foyer stairs, jumping over the fallen door that had once stood proudly in white garnished wood. Now it lies on the floor on it's side in the wooden frame. Lorana follows after him and they follow the screams of the terrified voice.

* * *

**"Somebody!" She screams,** trying hard to stay on the branch that she had climbed in her desperate attempt to escape the wolf that had sometime later during the chase been joined with another wolf and then two more after; all were either black or grey, and all of them frightened her. Gabriella's heart pounds loudly behind her ears and her fingers tighten their grip around the thick base of the large branch as she decides to climb higher if she can manage. Her hair is a tangled mess around her face from the running, her cloak is torn; her hood long since ripped off from when she had gotten snagged by a clawed branch. "Stay away from me..." she calls out to the hungry wolves below her, trying to climb up to get their meal. "I mean it..stay where you!" As if they can understand her, right?

The large wolf, the black one that had started this chase of hunter and prey lunges upward and nearly takes hold of her ankle, Gabriella lifts her leg out of the way so it's like she's sitting in an awkward position in the tree. She cries incessantly for help.

* * *

**'This way!' David** yells, his paws thumping on the ground and his heart behind behind his ribcage. Lorana picks up her speed and tails after her husband as they whip quickly around a tree and thorn bush with red berries.

'I see something just beyond this clearing!' Lorana howls at him, they run faster; their paws thumping on the ground and their nails clicking on any rocks that are mashed in the dirt. They come out of the bushes just as they see a pack of wolves jump at the young woman in the tree; on her face a look of absolute horror and fright, and then she pales and looks positively faint when her eyes see them.

'There's too many, David.' Lorana says, bringing her lip to growl at the four wolves. David growls and stalks forward slowly.

'I'll fight...you protect her.'

'I shall help you-'

'No,' David says, his tail twitching, 'you protect the girl...I'll call for your help when I need it.' Lorana growls but obeys, stalking over toward the base of the tree that housed Gabriella. David launches himself at the great black wolf and bites at his neck, Lorana fends off as best she can the other two wolves, 'you know,' she whines, 'two wolves against isn't fair!'

David grunts, growls and begins to fight this wolf again. 'I'm a little busy here! Just keep at what you're doing!'

* * *

**She stares at** the scene below in utter horror-struck awe, the two wolves - the reddish one and the white as snow one - came bounding and start fighting, almost as if they were...they are protecting her. Gabriella climbs higher in the tree, hanging tight to the branches that get thinner the higher she goes; her bum leg aching like hell in the middle of a quaking piece of land. Her heart pounds loudly behind her ears and in her chest till her ribs ached, her palms are cut from the sharp edges of the bark and her arms feel like jello from climbing; if she could just make it to that one highest branch...

* * *

**Short? Yes, but that's going to be my plan...'Short, long, short, long...a little longer, long' anyway, I'm excited for this story. I really am. **

**Now, keep in mind that David and Lorana are woves from dusk to dawn; I gave them the little gift of telepathy but only with each other, if they are too try to communicate with humans in their wolf form it's just a bunch of whines and growls. Ha. Ha.  
**

**Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter! I thank you all who reviewed the last chapter! Apparently the rest of you are shy, but that's OK. It don't bother me much.  
**

**~Elena xx  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**"The Pianist"**  
**~Chapter Three~**

**"She's never **been this long in the woods before," Gregor murmurs almost to himself; it's late and his younger children are tucked away in their beds, only him and his wife Marina sit up, awaiting the return of Gabriella- however, it's been hours. Marina anxiously folds and unfolds her hands in her lap, then busies herself with a small task, only then to have her hands back in her lap; twisting and strangling the circulation from her fingers. Gregor is pacing the floor with a frenzy, if the floor was made of dirt - which it's not, thankfully; just a simple wood. "I shouldn't have let her go into the-"

"Gregor," Marina says, "she's nearly a woman, she has a right to-"

"Do you not remember the last time she went into the woods?" He interrupts his wife, turning his eyes on her; they are slightly red and a bit puffy. Gregor is no man to hide his emotions in the presence of his family; but when he's public, he is stone and stands hard like a statue that stands tall and proud in the Evan's castle court.

"Of course I remember," Marina says calmly, looking down at her knotted hands. "I also remember who killed that wolf-"

"If she hadn't followed me into the woods that day-"

"Gregor," Marina says, standing up and taking his stubbly face in her hands when she reached him; his pacing ceased. "It's not your fault, nor her's...it was a fateful accident that shouldn't have happened. But, Gregor, you can't tell me that you don't look at Gabriella- our eldest daughter -and think that she isn't the most beautiful young woman you've seen; cause that's what I see." Gregor sighs, shaking his head and leaning his forehead on that of his wife's and kissing her lips chastely.

"You are a fine woman," he whispers against her lips. She smiles sympathetically, running her fingers through his curly hair that landed on his shoulders; just shy of his collar bone.

"She will be safe home soon, Gregor, we mustn't worry-"

"Marin-"

"-too much." She finishes, not letting him speak; she intertwines her fingers through his and kisses everyone of his knuckles; staring into his dark eyes. "Come." She says, "we must sleep...and you have work in the fields with the Baylor's tomorrow."

He shakes his head, "I can't think of work...not now, not when my little girl is-"

"-is going to be home at any moment. You'll see. Now, come." She squeezes his hand reassuringly and tugs him toward their small square of a bedroom; both are anxiously awaiting the late arrival of their suddenly wayward daughter-it's not like Gabriella to be wayward. Not at all, so why is she starting now?

* * *

**It's warm, no** longer cold and freezing as it was outside in the woods; her toes flex and her fingers curl tightly into her palms. Her eyes squeeze shut at the pain in her skull, and her shoulders felt something soft and warm- not her cloak that had been chilled from the cold wind outside -drape over them. She is at totally ease, er...well she would've been; if it hadn't been for the sound of clicking nails on the floor that made her eyes fly open and her body sit up. "What the-where am I?" She slurs tiredly, looking at the two dogs sitting by the fire hearth on the other side of the...rather large chamber. Her heart instantly speeds it's pace again and she silently looks for anything to beat the blasted animals with.

Then a thought occurred to her, 'How'd I get here?' she thinks, looking around the immaculate white marble walls covered in tapestries and paintings and gold linings. It was a whine, soft and curious, that made her look at the fire place hearth again; this time into the green eyes of the white wolf that had helped fight off the four wolves from earlier. She swallows, pulling the blanket up to her chin as her lip trembles. "Don't...don't hurt me." She whispers, the white wolf tilts it's head and whines once more before turning to the reddish one and nuzzling it's shoulder- it whimpers in pain but otherwise only turns it's head. Shocking blue eyes meet hers.

Is it natural for wolves to have such...human like eyes? Eyes that hold such intelligence?

The white wolf takes a step closer to the bed where she is lying; holding the blankets to her chin. "Stay-stay away from..." the wolf nuzzles her arm and then rests it's head on the bed beside her. Her heart is still hammering in her chest and behind her ears. Taking a breath, she raises her hand and scratches between the creatures ears tentatively; and then the reddish one comes behind and shoves ...him? Her? With it's nose; causing Gabriella to jerk her hand away. The white wolf looks at the other, it's eyes narrowing; like a human's would, it opens its muzzle to perhaps growl or bark..but instead, their ears for straight and their muzzles close when a soft melody comes through; slicing the air delicately. The two wolves look at each other, then at her and then at the window where the door to balcony is opened; the sun is just about to rise in less than a few minutes.

It's as if they were talking; communicating in some way that Gabriella couldn't understand, and probably would never since after that whole experience, especially since they run from that chamber and disappear behind the heavy looking door. 'Where am I?' Gabriella wonders, holding the blankets to her as she looks around with wide eyes and puckered lips.

"Great," she says, her voice whining a bit as she falls back on to the oh so soft mattress. "Mama and Papa is going to tan my hide when I get home." She closes her eyes and pulls the blanket to cover them; wishing and hoping that this is all a dream and she'd wake up at home and in her own bed.

* * *

**He wakes, his **lips twitching as he relives that day in his dreams. The day his sight was taken, the day that he could only live in blackness until his 21st year. He has two years; he's only nineteen. Groaning, he flings his feet over the edge of his mattress, his fingers running through his unkempt hair; his hair tie falls off when he sleeps, thus he wakes up with a haystack for hair in the morn. His bare shoulders hunch over his knees as he practically falls asleep once more in that sitting position, but he knows that he must be up and awake; moving about this now pathetic and depressing excuse for a castle. Sighing, and ruffling his fingers through his hair, he stands up and stretchs. His ears are perked up for everything; that tense, brooding look about his shoulders and crinkle between his brows always there from all the thoughts stressing through his mind daily. He looks toward where he knows are the balcony doors, he can just imagine the sunrise; the herald of the dawn and the lark calling it's song to wake the villagers below the castle- just a few miles off. His fingers twitch, but he only folds them against his palm as he walks slowly to the trunk, that he had moved all his clothes too, that sits at the foot of his rather large bed. He pulls out a...well, that's the thing that is impossible with blindness; he can't see his clothing, but he's been dressing himself alone for 18 months- as if he'd let anyone else do it!

The door knob rattles, there's a knock that follows. He sighs, "What?!" He yells, it's too early, surely, to be bothered by anybody.

"Sire," says the pathetic voice of his servant. "I-I...your parents have requested you."

"Tell them I'm ill." He says bluntly, feeling the smooth fabric of...is this a tunic? The servant coughs, he sighs once more and rolls his eyes; he'd be glaring if he was able to see at all. Damned witch. "Is it of any importance?!" Does he mean to scold? To yell? Yes, he's not a morning person.

"They say it is." His voice is soft, Troy sighs shaking his head and digging through his trunk again. "Can I dress at least?" His voice is relatively softer, but still scolding. The servant nods nervously, and this irritates Troy. Everything does, because he cannot see when others nod. The servant realizes his error and promptly speaks out; Troy holds up the fabric- a routine for his dressing. "This a tunic?"

"Yes, Sire." Troy nods, feeling for what he knows is the front and puts it on. The tights he had slept in he leaves on himself; he's covered decently. "There," Troy says, "bring my parents in-"

"Sire, your excellency-" the poor servant interrupts, Troy narrows his eyes even though he cannot see; just out of habit to show his irritation for being interrupted by a servant. Well anybody really. The servant swallows, looking down and taking a fearful step back. "They have requested you in their room-wishing to show you-"

"I'll meet them no further than the entry to my wing...no further. Bring them." The servant bows his head, and scuttling his feet toward the large double doors of Troy's suite. When he hears the click of the door, Troy turns and crosses his arms over his chest to heave a large sigh and he turns to the door again; his hand reaching in front of him so he can grasp the handle once he reaches it.

* * *

**Lorana paces the **tile floor of the hall; she and David stand outside the huge doors that lead into their suite, occasionally peeking in to see that the brunette girl - about 16 years of age, the right age to marry - is lying on their bed with the blankets drawn up. Lorana admits, she doesn't know why she feels a maternal instinct toward the girl (wolf or human, maternal) but she does, perhaps that's why she's the one who brought here to the castle in the first place, where as David's idea of wanting to just track her path back to her home was...well, Lorana is great at arguing-and winning that argument.

_Flashback_

'No,' David says, his tail twitching; he's licking his paw that had gotten injured in the fight. 'We aren't taking her home with us.' Lorana stretches her front paws out, rising her hind end in the air to stretch her spine.

'David,' she says, whining as she huffs out a breath from her snout. 'She's only a child; not much younger than-'

'We can take her home, but Troy won't like it.'

'You know as well as I do that he needs to learn to see beauty with his heart...well, David, look at her.' Her ears twitch to the side and her head turns to the small framed girl lying unconscious on the ground; a good sized cut on her forehead from where she fell from the tree and hit her head on that medium rock. David sighs, his muzzle opening to let out a yawn. He examines her face; the left side where it's marred and the right side where it's flawless, her dark curls that splay all over the ground; it is very long. How does she take care of it?

'She is pretty.' he says simply, Lorana huffs and walking over to the girl and nuzzling her shoulder; she stirs only slightly but doesn't wake. Lorana looks up at her husband, 'help me, Husband.' she commands, 'I cannot carry her by myself...'

'I still say this is a bad idea-'

'And I say we're done talking about this. She comes with us.' David rolls his eyes, walking over to where is wife stands and the girl lays, 'and we get charged with kidnapping by the constable when her parents discover she's missing.'

Lorana rolls her eyes and doesn't say a word as she and him pick up the girl with their nuzzles and balance her as best they can on their shoulders; they walk back home slowly, and manage to make it back before the sun rises...

_End of Flashback_

That was hours ago, and Lorana still feels like writing a tally on the nearest wall to keep score of who wins whichever argument her and David have or shall have soon. David rubs his wrist between his fingers; looking out a narrow window at the sun that is rising in the mid-morning sky. "Where is he?" David asks, turning his blue eyes on his wife. Lorana sighs and wraps an arm around him; he's wearing a blue cotton robe, and she a white silk one. Fitting, since as a wolf she has white fur.

"He'll be here-" the clearing of a throat makes them turn around; seeing the servant they sent. Lorana smiles, but David frowns.

"Well?" David asks, his tone gentle. "Where is our son?" The servant sighs, knotting his- well, what would be fingers -tassels together. When the three women as the enchantress turn everything and everyone into something, he is turned into a rug; that can walk and talk- a rug because that's how Troy treats him...most of the time. All of the time.

"He's...he wants you to meet him at the entry to his wing..no further than that." His voice is soft, pathetic almost. Not as pathetic and soft as it is when he's in the same space as Troy. Lorana bites her lip, shaking her head; her ebony coloured curls bouncing around her face and on her shoulders. Her eyes down cast.

"Could you try again?" She asks, looking at the servant. "It would make sense to have him here so we could show him-"

"He's in a vile mood, monsieur et madame," the servant says softly, intertwining his tassels together tighter than before. David sighs, waving him off and marching toward his son's wing. If Troy is in a 'vile mood' then what is the mood that David is in right this second? Just as bad. Father like son, one could say.

* * *

**:D It's a longer chapter than last. I'm sticking to my pattern of 'long short long short long a little longer long' .ha.**

**Marina is the type of person who is oh so positive; an optimist. Gregor? A realist. Troy? An ass who is incredibly hot (; .ha. David is supposed to be like an older version of Troy, but different in many ways. (make sense?) Lorana? I am beginning to love her!  
**

**What are your opinions of the characters (all of them) so far in this story?  
**

**Bless you all for the reviews! xx  
**

**~Elena xxx  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**"The Pianist"**  
**~Chapter Four~**

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_kaykaybaby1127 - I'm sorry for your confusion, I time jumped...I thought the flashback helped..but I guess not for everyone. I sincerely apologize for your confusions. _**  
**

_*If anyone has any questions, concerns, or confusion please let me know, I will try my best to set them straight(:_

* * *

**Even in the morn**ing the sun is in the middle of a sapphire sky that has gray strips of clouds invading to block out the yellow, gold sphere. Normally, spending the day in the field with his friend Kristoff Baylor was what he looks forward too; but it's when his oldest daughter is missing and hasn't come home in the night or all of the morn, then he tends to drift his thoughts away from his dear friend and over worry about his daughter.

Not not that's a bad thing, right? He sighs, wiping his brow and concentrating on the field of wheat at his feet. "Oi," Kristoff says, halting his hands from the work to gaze at his friend. "You all right, mate?" Does he look all right? Gregor snorts and shakes his head.

"Kristoff, I wouldn't say 'all right'...I'd say 'slightly panicked'.." His voice trails off, staring down at the wheat that is needing to be harvested. Kristoff sighs, standing up and walking to his friend for 20 years.

"Is it about Gabriella?" Gregor looks at him, his brow crinkling in the center. "I heard she didn't come home last night-"

"Marina says I worry too much.."

"Well, you do," Kristoff says, before adding quickly. "But you have that right to." Gregor shakes his head, he will not fall and cripple to a pile of mush here. Not in front of his front.

"I'm tempted to go search for her.."

"Then why don't you?" Gregor frowns, shaking his head and looking up at the hot, blazing sun and the crystal blue sky.

"Marina would say I still worry too much, and I'd get lectured-"

"Christ!" Kristoff yells, "you're the only man I know of whose frightened of his own wife, Gregor!" Gregor bites his lip, going back to his work in the field for that afternoon. Kristoff stays quiet, going back to his duties, not pushing him to spill all his guts to him; but he has a point, Gregor doesn't stand up to his wife-he gives her the world without taking any of it back...

* * *

**"Troy!" David yells**, banging on the doors that lead to his son's chamber. His eyes are nearly black with angry rage, the vein in his forehead nearly about to burst as he pounds on the doors once more. "Open the damned door!" if one is to listen closely, they'd hear an inaudible groan on the inside and then the shuffle of feet- swearing when the owner of those feet would bump into something on the inside of that room. And then the door swings open, and David shoves his way in-careful so his son doesn't fall onto the floor, though the thought to give him a real good lickin' is tempting. No matter the age.

"Can I help you father?"

"Your a git." He says, his voice calm, but Troy knows better. "An arse."

"Glad you figured it out-"

"Your mother and I want to show you something...it may help with your situation." Troy rolls his, blind, eyes; crossing his arms in front of his chest, letting out an unattractive snort.

"What situation, father?" David scowls, never mind that Troy can't see him make that face. "I have the right mind to slap you right now, boy, don't make me do it-"

"I'm a grown man, you can't threaten me like that-"

"You may be grown, Troy...but I'm still your father. And if I want to give you a lickin', then I sure as hell will give you one...now, come." As if Troy has a choice, David grabs hold of the lapels of Troy's tunic and yanking him out of his chamber. Much to Troy's dismay, who rarely leaves that room ever since his sight had vanished; but he doesn't resist- unless you count him dragging his feet on the marble, stone floor.

"Father!" Troy says, yanking on his tunic, but David only holds tighter; dragging his son to his and his wife's chamber. "Let me-let me go! I'm not a child!"

"Stop acting like one! And you shall be treated like an adult!" He yells, stopping in the middle of the hallway, turning to glare at his son; again, not minding that Troy can't see it. If Troy wasn't blind, it'd be a stare down between father and son, but it's an unfair advantage when the son can't gauge his father's reaction. Unfair. All's quiet between the two of them, and then a door clicks shut and David turns to see his wife standing with her hands behind her back; eyes shining.

"She's bathing."

David nods, "That's fine. Gives us time to break fast." Troy frowns, he wishes that he wasn't blind.

"Whose bathing? Gives time ...what are you-"

"Troy," Lorana says, grabbing her son's arm gently. "Come, you must be hungry-"

"I'll eat when I'm hungry and when you've answered me!" Troy yells, yanking his arm away. "Who the blasted hell are you talking about?!" David sighs, his eyes still hard and angry as he glares at his son. "I know your glaring at me father! I can feel it! Now stop treating me like an errant child, answer me-"

"Oh!" The mother and father and turn, Troy turns only because the soft sounds startles him. "I'm-I'm sorry...I just..." the soft voice- a woman obviously -trails off, her eyes must be looking downcast. Lorana sighs, Troy hears her footsteps walking toward the voice.

"Dear, is everything all right?" Silence, awkward silence; as if the foreign woman is debating whether to speak. Troy stands there-well, he would, if his father hadn't grabbed his arm and started yanking him down to the dining hall, but that doesn't mean he wasn't paying attention to the fading conversation of his mother and the unknown woman.

Damn that woman's soft voice!

* * *

**"Mummy, where's** Gabi?" Asks little Sophie, her brown eyes quizzical as she looks up at her mother chopping vegetables for their morning meal. Marina looks at the eight year old, her's and Gregor's fourth child. The blessed child, Marina nearly lost her's and Sophie's life while in labour that winter. She's at war with herself because half of her wants to remember it for the miracle that is Sophie that came into the world that day, and the other half dreads to remember for the obvious fact that she almost lost a child, her children a mother and her beloved a wife. She sighs.

"Darling, Gabi is...well, I don't know.." Sophie's lips pucker and tremble.

"Doesn't she love us?" Marina looks up at her daughter in shock, "Of course she does! Don't ever question it!" She looks down at her small hands, watching her mother chop vegetables once more in silence. Sophie sighs again, "I'm sorry, Mummy..."

Marina looks at her miracle child, "It's okay, Love...just...I don't like to hear such things." Sophie nods slowly, looking at her small hands. Marina sighs, putting down her dull chopping knife and walking around the splintering table to kneel before her daughter. "Why don't you go help your father in the fields? With Mr Baylor?" Sophie smiles, she can't resist Mr Baylor; he's so good with children, for having only having a bastard nephew whose real father moved to Italy and mother died...it's a shame he has no real children of his own.

"Yes, Mama!" With a flick of her braided hair, she runs out of the small hut for a house and goes out to the fields where her father and his friend are working laughs, folding her arms around her...the baby cries. She sighs, walking into her's and Gregor's room that is shared with their infant child.

* * *

**Troy sighs, his** father successfully pulling him into the dining room; shutting the huge mahogany doors behind them. "Who is she?" Troy asks, his voice uncharacteristically softer than normal. David regards him with raised brows. "Now you're interested?" his son huffs out a breath, running a hand through his hair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"We don't know her name...she hasn't told us." Troy's brow creases, "and you've brought her hear?" David sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Me and your mother couldn't leave her in the woods very well could we? She fell from a tree, Troy." Troy snorts, shaking his head and waving a hand in front of his father's face.

"The worse she'd have gotten was a bump on her head-"

"Being chased by wolves."

"You and mother were chasing-"

"No we saved her...now, enough of this, she'd be down here soon; and the morning meal will be on the table by then. Why don't we sit?" Troy shakes his head and feels in front of him for the handle of the door. David looks at his son, frowning. "Troy-"

"I'll take my meal in my chamber. Like always."

David places a hand on his son's shoulder, "Son-"

"Like always..." he says sternly, yanking his shoulder out from his father's touch, at the same time yanking the door open and walking out of the dining room-feeling in front of him for the stairs. The servants nearby offer their help, but he declines with disdain and continues his search for the damned stairs. He grasps the post at the bottom of the stairs, taking the first step...however, he is so concentrated on getting to his chamber without tripping over anything that he didn't hear the two softly muted voices coming down the stairs, just the sounds of a frantic apology as he stumbles to feet-gripping the banister of the stairs.

"I'm so sorry! I'm sorry.."

"It's fine.." he mutters, he doesn't think she heard him quite that well; she's still apologizing. His mother, he knew she was there had obviously left in a dash, leaving the two alone. He makes a mental check on a list to scold her, no minding if she is mother or not...

"I'm sorry..I-I..I didn't see you.." Her words makes him smile, a small laugh escaping his throat.

"I didn't see you either." He feels the foreign woman's eyes on him, and then a hitch of her breath. "I'm blind..." might as well, put it out there in the open.

"Oh! I was-wasn't...I'm sorry, I mean...not because you're...I-I...I'm going to be quiet now." She's blushing, the atmosphere is changing; heating. It's making him smile...

"I was just heading to my chamber." He says, "Obviously I don't know my way around yet if I'm still bumping into things.." the woman says nothing, but the air is still the same, warm. Fuzzy.

"Would-would you like some help...of course, if you want...it?" Troy smirks, holding out his hand. "Perhaps just to the door...no further." The woman clears her throat, he feels her small; fragile feeling; fingers interlace with his and something warm shoots up his arm. He fights the urge to pull away, instead he grits his teeth.

"It's up the stairs, left side." One...two...three...four...five...he mentally counts their steps; something he's never done before and when they stop at the door, he hears her hum nervously. Absentmindedly, he curls his fingers around hers and brings her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand. "Until we meet again..." 'where the fuck did that come from?' he thinks, immediately shoving the thought aside. He feels her skin warming, she's blushing.

"Uh..y-yes...I-I...have a pleasant day

* * *

**WOW! What a chapter! Don't forget to review! What did you think of how Troy and Gabriella met?! You think it's fast? I was trying to put a TAD of Troyella fluff in there...even if it is just a smidgen. :D  
**

**Hope you liked the chapter!  
**

**~Elena xx  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**"The Pianist"**  
**~Chapter Five~**

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_Katniss (Ekaterina) - Pretty name. And my answer to you question is "Yes". _

* * *

**"I want a party."** Sharpay Evans says, looking at her perfectly trimmed nails as the servants massage her feet. Her brother, twin brother; younger by at least twenty minutes; looks up from his parchment and stops his quill in it's place.

"And what reason is it for you to want to have a party, sister?" Sharpay smiles, looking up from her nails and to her brother.

"My darling, Brother...the reason to have a party is that we both turn of twenty years-" Ryan, all green eyes and sarcastic wit about him, tilts his head and scrunches his eyebrows together. His lips pursed in a fine line as if he is deep into some thought; it's also the same face he gets when he is engrossed in some fantastic book or scroll...

"That was...last week, I think," he scratches his stubbly chin and then nods slowly, "yes...a week ago. You want to throw another birthday celebration?" Sharpay smiles, standing up, and her pink gown billowing from her hips and gathering in pools at her toes; her blond hair up in a style that only the Spanish would do...then again, Sharpay has always been one to try new...styles be it hair or clothes.

"What ever reason do we need otherwise?" She is smiling huger, her eyes shining brightly and her words trilling with excitement. No one can say 'no' to her, then again...no-one's ever dared to. She shrugs her petite shoulders limply; her blond bangs framing her face as she takes her oh so dainty steps, her fingers knotting together as she closes her eyes; envisioning their palace's grand ballroom decorated in ribbons of pink, Sharpay's favourite colour, and green- Ryan's. She'd invite her friends; mostly since, she always assumes that Ryan doesn't have any. "There'll be a band; striking a waltz for everyone to sway to...oh! And a table of a delicious banquet- for those who only come for food."

"Sister who does that?" Ryan says, slightly apalled, Sharpay rolls her eyes.

"How about that girl whose completely smitten with you? What's her name..? Smoley...Samanly...Holey...something.."

"Samantha." Ryan says, shaking his head and going back to concentrate on his roll of parchment. "And she's not smitten-"

"She ogles you like you're made of sweets, Ryan!" She yells, waving her arms around frantically like a mad woman. Ryan rolls his eyes, attempting to pay his sister no mind.

"What is the real reason behind this party, Sharpay?" he inquires, his tone mellow and mono. Sharpay narrows her eyes and shakes her head in exasperation; grabbing her brother's tunic by it's lapels and glaring into his eyes.

"I can't throw a bash for no reason?" Ryan, unfazed by her sudden hostility, shakes his head and pulls out of his sisters surprisingly strong hands. "Yes...we need a reason-"

"I do not!" She says a little too loudly, "and mainly because my motivation is to a certain noble prince that used to rule the kingdom with his family-"

"The Boltons?" Ryan asks incredulously, his brows raising and eyes widening as he regards his hair-brained sister. "What do you want with their son?" Sharpay scoffs, waving a hand in front of her face and shaking her head as she twirls her fingers about her perfectly curled hair.

"I'm old enough to marry...so is their oh so darling son..I think I'd be a suitable bride-something funny, Brother?" She cocks an eyebrow at him and crosses her skinny arms over her chest. Ryan clears his throat, trying to distort his laughter...and he fails at the task of doing such a thing. Sharpay scoffs and marches from the room, going to the garden that was full of ...well, weeds this time of year. But in the Spring it is full of flowers of every kind; well, nearly every kind. Roses, peonies, tulips, wildflowers, tiger lilies...it was truly an enchanted forest from the tales of the Grimm's brothers whenever a person or persons walks into the beautiful place on the palace grounds.

* * *

**Soft, caressing** music floats down the stairs to the dining room. Gabriella can't help but allot herself a smile as she listens, the plate in front of her full of a bounty; her stomach growls for the delicious tastes to invade her mouth as the smells make it salvate and the steam arises from the plate; but as the plate is so full of food and she's hear enjoying the bounty, she thinks of her family...who probably has nothing this morn- or practically nothing, her father has always managed to catch some form of food; even from the forbidden forests just behind the Evans' castle...she knows he knows she knows he hunts there but neither refuse to say anything to anyone, so they both pretend that neither of them knows nothing of such things taking place. "So..." says the woman, the incredibly kind noble woman who loaned her the silk gown she's wearing; it feels heavenly against her skin. "What is your name, Child?"

She dips her head low, blushing scarlet; she's hated introducing herself. Her mother's always done it for her..."Gab...ella.." she mumbles, the woman looks at the man- who bears a striking resembles to his son. The young man who accepted her help earlier...his eyes much bluer than his father's though; she idly wonders if it's him upstairs playing, perhaps one of the servants running around has a talent for music?

"Darling," the woman kindly says, "what was that you said?" Biting her lip, she looks through her lashes at her, and then down at her finger nails. _Serfs must never nobles or royalty in the eye._ Her mother always says to her. _Always answer clearly when they are speaking to you_. She swallows nervously and frees her plump bottom lip from her teeth.

"Gabriella..." she whispers softly, and more clearly. Her fingers, tan and slim, knot together on her lap.

"Well," the woman says, "I'm Lorana Bolton." Gabriella shoots her head up, her eyes wide- well, the side as wide as it can go ever since the...accident with wolves when she was a child. And when Lorana notices her face, she can't help but gasp. "Oh Darling, your face...what-what's happened?" Gabriella swallows and looks down, she hates it when people notices her face.

It's cause she hates the pity they all throw her way.

"Lorana," her husband says, grasping her hand and sending a sympathetic look at Gabriella before looking at his wife. "You've embarrassed her...let's eat our meal and let her explore-"

"David, you can't pretend not to be concerned about h-"

"It happened when I was very young." Gabriella says softly, causing the two to look at her. For the longest time they just look at her, expecting her to further explain but she doesn't. David clears his throat and looks once again at his wife, Lorana has a hand over her bosom and a sorrowful look on her face.

"Oh my-what happened?" She asks, David rolls his eyes and sputters into his cup before looking at her with a knot in his brow.

"Honestly!" He scolds, "Lorana, you can't ask that of her if she clearly doesn't want to explain!" Lorana glares at her husband and crosses her arms over her breasts.

"I'm just concerned for her!" She yells, her voice raising and soon it becomes a screaming match between the married couple. Gabriella bites her lip, not wanting to interrupt them and tell them that she is, in fact, still in the room while they are fighting about her; she opts for standing up slowly and then tiptoeing her way out into the foyer- where the music seems to float down at a much grander - louder - scale. She feels every muscle tense and then visibly relax. Her eyes trained on the stairs, she takes one step toward the blissful sound.  
Make that three steps.  
Five.  
Seven.  
Ten.

At the top of the stairs, the music surrounds her head and she finds herself being pulled by it toward the door where she helped their son find. _Where he kissed my hand_, Gabriella thinks as the back of her hand burns from the tingles his lips have left behind. She reaches the door handle, curves her fingers around the intricate carvings of it, and then-

The music stops, her hand is yanked away from the door when she runs the other way, down the stairs and into a room that should've been locked...but isn't.

* * *

**The satchel isn't** large, but it's not small either; it's just the right size for a man Gregor's height with the broad shoulders and large muscles. Beside the satchel are the essentials for traveling in the woods; food - a delicious spread of bread and butter and broth in a wood bowl with a cloth cover. A canteen of water, he'll be sure to stop by the creek when he stops for the night to camp. He stuffs his clothes on the bottom, then the food and then a blanket over that. The canteen is hooked on to the pocket that the missus had sewn on a few years ago.

"Are you sure about this?" Gregor turns his eyes over his shoulder, seeing his wife in the doorless entry to their room. Really examining her, his brow creases; she's too plae and her eyes a too shallow and dark. She's almost...frail looking.

"You look like you need rest." He says strictly, why didn't he notice how she looked before? "You look ill."

"Pish," she says with a wave of her hand, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck; her fingers swimming through his hair. "I feel better than I have in a long time-"

"I know how you feel," he whispers, stopping his packing and wrapping her in his arms; kissing her neck and whispers against her skin. "But it's how you look that bothers me- you look ill." She sighs, a smirk on her face that disappears when he lifts his eyes to hers.

"I'll rest a lot while you're away. It's your safety I'm concerned for." Gregor laughs, leaning his forehead on hers and running his fingers through her hair and kissing her lips softly.

"I'm looking for Gabriella, and when I find her I vow to you to bring her back in one piece. Safe and sound. Where she should be." Marina smiles sadly, kissing his lips softly.

"Just be safe, my love." He smiles sadly back at her, his eyes mirroring her own.

"I vow to you, Sweeting. My word is as good as the day we married."

* * *

**What did I tell you? I'm cranking out chapters for this story like crazy! What do think of the story so far?**

**~ Elena xxx  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**"The Pianist" **

**~Chapter Six~**

* * *

_I have decided on a song for Troy for this story, "Falling In The Black" by Skillet...what song do you think is for Gabriella? Do you have one for the other characters after reading the story so far? Let me know in a review after you have read this chapter! xx_

* * *

**He heard them.** The tentative footsteps through the music of the piano, he doesn't know why that caused him to halt playing...if that even was the reason, but he sits now at his piano, waiting for whomever walked up to his door to open it and step in. A minute passes. Two. Three. Five. He sighs, turning his complete attention to the keys that begged for his fingers again; begged for his fingers like the skin of a woman would be begging. The melody he plays is soft; his fingers flitting across the softer, more airy, tones; his world turns to hues of soft green and sky blue, wildflowers blooming around him and then a brook running softly nearby. Music always changes his world; it puts his mind in a place where everything is his own. Normally, he loves creating a world of his own with his music, but when he hit a certain note...he stopped; turning his blind eyes toward where he knew the door is closed shut.

Why does he keep expecting it to open? "I'm going mad," he whispers, pushing himself away from the piano, he slides off the bench and straightens his tunic before heading to his door; his hands outstretched in front of him. His fingers curl around the handle, he pulls it open- why he expects to hear soft, shallow breathing...he doesn't know. "I'm definitly losing my mind." He says to himself again, tapping his fingers on the banister of the stairs.

What is it that had gotten him from his piano? Out of his room?

What has him...anxious?

* * *

**The woods are** not much to fret over in the daylight hours; the trees don't resemble claws of beasts so much as ...well, branches just reaching into the sky. Gregor tightens his hold on his satchel, his feet crunching and breaking twigs and small sticks under his weight. He coughs, but quickly recovers as he keeps marching on; he wants to get far into the woods before dusk. Before dusk he wants to have camp set up. Before dusk he hopes to find his daughter...blessedly, by the powers of the Lord, all right.

Please, Lord my God, let her be all right. He thinks, sending up a prayer to the skies as he marches on. Twigs crunch and snap under his weight and he hums a tune that is familiar to him. At the same time completely foreign. The wind is chilly as the sun climbs higher and sets lower in the sky, he tugs his tunic and cloak tighter around him. How did Gabriella survive this? If she survived it- no, he mustn't think that way. His daughter did make it. She's safe somewhere...he just needs to find her.

Now, where to start looking?

* * *

**"You went a litt**le ...well, too much." David says to his wife, both the husband and wife are taking a stroll about the beautiful garden's of the palace; they were listening to play, but he stopped playing near an hour ago. Lorana is adament to check on her son, but David is keeping a tight hold on her arm and continuing their stroll. She looks at him with her big green eyes and smirks, feigning innocence.

"I don't know what you mean, my dear." She purrs, tracing circles on his clothed chest. He stops her wrist with her hand and stares hard into her eyes. She still smirks. The wolf in her, the one that comes out with the sun when it's climbing higher in the sky only to fall down in a matter of hours.

"You, my dear," David says, his voice half way between a snarl and a seductive groan, "like to lay things a little thick don't you? That poor girl at break fast? Why were you asking her questions?" She giggles, the audacity! Retracting her hand and walking away to control her giggle fit. David narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest and juts out his bottom lip in a pout...well, half pout, half sneer.

"What's so amusing?" She giggles, whirling around to face him and she still smiles like a child.

"'why were you asking her questions?' Dear! Honestly!" She nearly yells, "I believe it's called making conversation-"

"You couldn't see that she was uncomfortable with your attempts at conversation?" Lorana shakes her head, waving her hand in some direction as she steps closer to him and wraps her arms around his neck. She pecks his lips and rubs her nose against his before speaking. Ah, the powers of distraction. Or this seduction?

"Love, she...she could be the one to make Troy see...and break whatever ...'curse' there is here-"

"You needn't press her for information." He says sternly, trying not to fall for that spark in her eyes that always made him seem more animal than man. He's reasonable, but when his wife looks at him with that...that seductive spark, he loses all reason and turns back into his neanderthal ancestor.

"I'm sorry. I apologize..." she whispers, trailing her hands down to his chest and resting them there. David's voice is but a whisper when he speaks, his lips hovering just over hers.

"Do not apologize to me. It's that girl in the castle...she's probably trying to run-where do you think you're going?" Lorana had pushed herself away from him, beginning to run frantically into the castle. The doors that lead from the old ballroom to the gardens were slightly ajar from when she and David had came through; she runs into them and and picks up her skirt to run faster...well, she would've if she hadn't seen the object of their conversation standing with her back against the door and her eyes closed as if searching for...some sort of peace.

"Gabriella.." she says breathlessly, walking to the young woman; who snaps her eyes open and regards the older woman. "What are you-"

"I'm sorry!" she rushes out to say, "I just..I ran to the first door I saw, I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to-"

"Gabriella," Lorana says, grabbing her wrists and holding them in her hands gently. Like a mother would. "It's fine that you're in here. Perfectly fine. I was just on my way to check on you-"

"You're out of breath-" Lorana laughs a bit, then stares at her; her hair is all fly away and her eyes are...God, she can't help but stare at her marred and twisted side. It's so...different. Gabriella shifts under her gaze and turns her face away so that her 'ugly' side is hidden from her eyes. Lorana sighs, blushing that she'd been caught staring.

"Forgive me. I just was...how did you come by that scar?"

"I was..I was a child.." Gabriella mutters, biting her lower lip and keeping her eyes down on the floor. The older woman awaits for her to continue. "I had followed my father into the woods...and there was a wolf who-"

"Say no more," Lorana says, holding up a hand and then pulling her into her bosom to hold her close. "I understand now..your fear of wolves-"

"There was two in here. In the room I was in..." she whispers, perhaps Lorana could answer her questions but she instantly regrets saying anything when the older woman stiffens and pulls away slightly.

"Dear-"

"They saved my life. In the woods last night...I-I...I've been afraid of them...but - and I know how silly this must sound - I want to thank-"

"Dear, their wolves-"

"I understand that, but-"

"Perhaps you'll see them soon and you'll get your chance...but right now, would you like a tour? See the garden perhaps." Gabriella bites her lip, wanting to decline but suddenly the urge for fresh air and to get out of this stuffy castle - if a place this large can be categorized as 'stuffy' - was vital. She nods slowly, pushing herself off the door and smoothing the invisible wrinkles from her gown that Lorana had loaned her. It's blue with a decent showing flesh at the breasts; not enough to keep her inside, but enough to let a man have a view and want more and more and more...

"That sounds fine." She whispers, her shoulders going between slumping forward and straight as an arrow. "Will you give me the-"

"Me? Oh no, I'm much to busy with my husband." A lie, but she always knows what she's doing. "But I'm sure my son, Troy, won't mind at all."

* * *

**The best thing** about being blind is that your other senses get heightened, and therefore when Troy had slowly walked down the steps into the foyer; and is now standing in the large doors of the ballroom where he can't help but over hear his mother and this 'Gabriella', so this woman has a name? He thinks with a knowing smirk. The door handle wiggles and before he can escape to his room it opens and his mother comes out with this Gabriella at her side. "Oh Troy," he hears her chirp. He narrows his eyes. "Gabriella would like a tour-"

"Then have a sighted person give it to her." He says, chewing on his inner cheek as he spat out the acid words. Lorana sighs, "Troy, the servants are all busy-"

"I don't recall giving them the time off." His hands fist and he feels like whipping something. Someone. Lorana scoffs, waving him off and taking Gabriella's hand.

"Just show her around-"

"I'm blind mother." Troy says, "have a servant do it." Lorana looks at her son and then at Gabriella, excusing herself politely, she grabs Troy's tunic front and drags him a fair distance where Gabriella is not in hearing range.

'When are you going to stop being a prat?" Lorana hisses, Troy crosses his arms over his chest and sneers.

"When I die-"

"Don't even joke about death!" She scolds her son, slapping him alongside the head. "I've lost too many children to talk about..." her voice trails off, it's true; Troy is the last of 12 babies born; and the only one to survive birth. The others have died only 48 hours of being born. Troy's the lucky one, he's survived being born; he's alive and walking and breathing...but he appreciates it naught. But even he feels his mother's pain for his choice of words.

"I apologize.." he says, his voice harsh but his words sincere. "It's not right of me to say things that make you...uncomfortable. But I won't give her a tour."

"Troy," Lorana whispers, "don't you want to be free of ...of this ...curse that is upon you? Us? The castle?" He sighs, shaking his head and running a hand through his neatly combed hair. It stops at his shoulders; the tails of his coat joustle slightly at the movement.

"Of course I do, mother-"

"Then please...for me?" She bats her eye lashes, but Troy is stony and clears his throat. "You're pouting mother." He says simply, a smirk playing on his lips. Troy Bolton doesn't smile or grin, he smirks or frowns. Lorana laughs, "yes I am...now, for me?"

Thinking. He's thinking of walking up and going back to his room where his piano is, but instead something makes him say "Yes" and she claps her hands in glee, tugging him back to where Gabriella stands nervously with her fingers knotted and her eyes downcast. Suddenly, Troy feels like his fingers need to be cracked, his palms are sweaty and his gut is wrenching in a horrible feeling of mixed emotions. But there's one common emotion that blankets him; nervousness. "Why am I nervous?" Lorana looks at him, smiling like a proud mother hen.

"Troy..."

"I did not mean to speak it aloud-"

"Doesn't matter. I just..it's good to see you..you know, out of that chamber of yours." Troy sighs, running a hand through his hair; his heart pounding behind his ribs as he feels his mother stop and tug on his hand, pretty soon he feels a much smaller hand in his and then his mother's retreating footsteps reach his ears. Now it's just them.

"Uh..." she whispers, Troy stares at her. Well, stares at the blackness that surrounds him. He hates being blind, especially now. He wants to see her. "I-I.."

"You like music?" He asks, idly wondering and genuinely curious. Gabriella looks up at him smiling.

"I-I...I love it." Troy smiles, a full smile; something rare for him.

"Good. You can help me to my chamber again...this time, you're welcome to come in with me."

* * *

**"At least a hund**red invitations." Sharpay says, pacing the floor of the study where there are servants making lists of the guests. "Oh and include Troy Bolton and his parents." The servants look up at her, ceasing their writing, and she stops her pacing to glower at them. "Why have you stopped the moving of that quill?"

"M-ma'am...Troy Bolton...he-he used to rule-"

"I'm aware of his family being the former ruling family." Sharpay says icily, squaring her shoulders; beginning to pace again. The servants; Adriana is her name, she's small for her size, 15 years old and expecting her first child. She was Troy's best friend as a child, but when the Evans' took over and the Bolton's forced to go elsewhere, Adriana couldn't leave with her friend. She hasn't seen him since.

"Mistress," Adriana whispers, "Troy Bolton i-is...please just...let them be-Ah!" Sharpay had whipped around, her slender hand stinging the young, pregnant woman's cheek. Her eyes glowing.

"Troy Bolton is on the guest list! Adriana, you and I will personally go to his family's castle and hand it to him...oh and make sure to his invitation special." Sharpay smirks, stopping in front of a rather large mirror that covers the entire wall of the study; lined with white gold and framed with mahogany, polished daily so it has that glittering shine. "After all, he is to be my husband."

"He doesn't wish to marry-" Adriana starts, but halts her words when Sharpay whips around to glower even more at her; the young lady cowers and takes a fearful step back; the older servants stand in front of her protectively. Sharpay juts out her upper lip and curls her lips in a sneer.

"Remember when to hold your tongue, Serf." Sharpay spits, spinning on her foot and strolling out of the study. Adriana let's her shoulders droop and a breath comes from her throat as she falls into the red velvet she was sitting in when she was making the guest lists with the other serfs.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed it! Yay or nay? Review!(:**

**~Elena xxx  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**"The Pianist" **

**~Chapter Seven~**

_A Few Hours Later..._

**His feet crunches **over twigs and his body is shivering as the sun get lower in the west. His hands tighten over and over again on his satchel; his canteen empty of water; his food supply nearly gone...what is about the woods that makes a man eat like a dying soldier gasping for his last breath? He wipes sweat off his brow and then slows his pace; looking over his shoulders before he turns around the front and continues walking at that slow pace. "Aaaooh!" every muscle in his body clenches when he hears that howl. 'What if Gabriella had been attacked by a wolf?' he thinks, worst case scenarios of his daughter bleeding out from any part of her driving him to walk fast...until he tripped over a root sticking up from the ground, landing on his face and cutting his palms on the sharp rocks. Agony stings, but he swallows it and adjusts himself so he is sitting in the dirt at the base of the tree that tripped him. "Aaaooh!" another howl is released, he looks at the sunset; what's left of it anyway...

Brilliant hues of gold, red and orange blend in the sky; lighting it ablaze and temporarily blinding Gregor until he has to look away to regain his sight. Gabriella loves sunsets, so...what if she's near a place where she can see it perfectly. He smiles small and soft at the sight of his daughter humming while she looks on at the golden ball in the sky disappearing for the night and her eyes sparkling as she wishes on that first star. "Gabriella..." he sobs, not bothering to hide. Hell, he's practically in private, no-one around to question his 'manhood' when they see him cry or quiver with worry. He hugs his knees to his chest, laying his face in his arms as he muffles his sobs. His wife, he fears for her health and his daughter...he fears her safety. "I'm sorry...I'm going to find you. Papa's going to find you, everything will be all right..." his voice is strangled and muffled and choked from the sobs. His heart is squeezing and un-squeezing in his chest with each agonizing breath. Besides his sobs, the woods are quiet...

That is until he hears bushes rustle, he stumbles to his feet; grabbing his daggers from his pockets, poised to fight whatever was- A rabbit. He visibly relaxes, smiling softly at the small creature as it looks around with wide eyes, that quivering nose, before it hops out of the way and into the forest of it's rabbit hole. Gregor puts his daggers back into their sheaths at his sides, and then he feels himself being knocked to the ground by two forces. One of them, grabbing hold of his ankle and dragging him roughly as it growls. He peeks over his shoulder, seeing a great wolf. Grey in colour, it's eyes a menacing yellow as he glowers at the man and growls; dragging Gregor some more. The other wold; reddish tint to its fur, grabs Gregor's wrist. The man screams, and his arm and leg are pulled to the point of his hip and shoulder dislocating. "Ah!" he kicks his leg that is free, hitting the grey wolf in the nose, but the creature quickly lurches on to something more fleshy. More likely to bleed out.

His thigh. "Ah! Damn it!" He tugs at his wrist that is in the other wolfs mouth, but that one has a tight hold; and it's teeth dig fiercely into his skin. Gregor screams and swears, kicking his free leg into the wolf's ribs and his free hand to grab at one of his daggers in their sheaths at his hips. Next thing he knows, the sharpness of the blade slashes through the fur and skin of the reddish wolf, and he lunges at the grey one. Attacking and stabbing it before slitting it's throat. What if these wolves attacked his daughter? It's good the beasts are dead so they can't harm anyone else.

He checks his wrist, the flesh is torn and blood drips over his palm. It stings when he touches even slightly. Then he looks at his thigh and ankle. They look about the same. He sighs, too fatigued to move- or even attempt the action of moving -he falls onto the ground with his back hitting the rocky, cold ground; a chill coming over him and his eyes slowly drifting closed...maybe if he ...just lays here...to rest. For a minute. A bit.

He won't be long, "Just let me rest..." he calls out to no-one, his eyes closing and his wounds numbing from the chill. Yes, a bit. A small rest wouldn't make much of a difference. He'd still have time to find ..."Gabriella," he whispers, "Papa's coming..." with those words, he drifts off to sleep. The chill greeting him like an old friend.

* * *

**"You play lovely," **Gabriella says, sitting on the bench in front of the piano besides Troy. Her eyes examining him as he sits there, his hands on the keys but not moving. His blank eyes staying on the wall in front of her. How great he must have been as a child-

"You mean for someone whose blind." Troy says, interrupting her thoughts. Shaking his head, and sliding off the stool, using his hands to guide him around the piano to where his settee sat; made of blue velvet and lucious silk pillows sitting in the corners the whole thing just sang to Gabriella 'sit here!' she sighs, standing up; her lips can't help but smirk with glistening eyes as she made her way to Troy.

"I wasn't even...I didn't mean-"

"It must be late." Troy says, interrupting her again. His back to her. "We've been up here for nearly the whole day." Gabriella nods, bobbing her small head as she looks out the balcony doors at the beautiful sunset. Her heart flutters at the red, gold and orange intertwining; she walks to the doors, stepping out on to the balcony to admire it more.

Troy turns his head, after hearing her footsteps go off to that direction he felt a curiosity build up in him- well, honestly, he has felt that curiosity ever since their exchange on the stairs ...and then again after he walked into his chamber after he'd kissed her hand. His lips burn still from that action, his gut aches and his palms tingle. It wasn't long before that while he was playing that time that his word created by his music was turned into a dancing temptress; dancing and swaying to the melodies he created, her gown falling off her shoulders, her lips rosy and plump as she smiles at him with ...in his world, he's not blind. He's sighted, but when that world ends...the harsh reality returns. "Gabriella?" He calls out, no answer. He cocks his head to the side, his hands reaching out as he stumbles to the balcony. He trips over his ottoman. He curses and just lies there with a leg draped over the obstacle. It's not the first time, and no-one's helped him...partly because he snaps at anyone who deigns too.

The clutter in the chamber made Gabriella look away from the sun, stepping in she looks down. Seeing Troy on the floor. "Oh my- are you...let me..help-" he waves his hand at her, shrugging as he just lies there.

"It's not the first time I've fallen over something, most of the time it's my own feet." He says, he didn't mean them too, but his words came out snidely and rude. The hurt that stabs Gabriella is like two little pinpricks on her palm. She bites her lip and takes a step closer, her hands reaching to curl around his shoulder; when he feels the tips of her fingers, he flinches and yanks himself away.

"You don't like help from others, do you?" She asks, now it's her turn to be snide and rude. Troy scoffs.

"I don't like the vulnerability that comes with it-" she crosses her arms over her chest, Troy can picture well in his mind. He shakes his head. Not saying anything.

"You're just going to lie there?" No response. She sighs, standing up straighter and looking away from Troy before she turns her head back. "I understand that men are prone to be afraid to show that they are weak...but how you treat your mother. Your father-"

"Stop..." he says, she continues on.

"Your servants-"

"Shut up, Gabriella." his teeth are clenched, he's struggling to sit up at least; but the ottoman won't release his leg. She continues on.

"It's pathetic. You act like a spoiled child when you don't get your way and you will go to any lengths to get your way; you throw fits and tantrums, you're arrogant and-"

"SHUT UP!" Troy yells, taking her aback and making her step backward toward the piano, he stumbles to his feet; finally freeing his leg from the ottoman that had tripped him- mental reminder, he thinks, give that away. Or chuck it over the balcony. "You know nothing about me! So who are you to tell me what I am? How I act? You know nothing! You're just a peasant! A peasant who lost her way in the big, bad woods! I didn't even want you here, but my parents insisted on it! Why don't you just...just go! I'm happier- much happier here alone!" Tears sprung in her eyes, she just looks at him for a second; her lips and hands trembling. She's been yelled at before, by her mama and papa, but those were scoldings when she's done something wrong.

She understood scoldings. Troy needs one like no other, but what he just- he...she shakes her head, sniffling audibly as she turns on her feet and runs from the chamber; her foot falls echoing with each step she took. He listens for a nearby door - a chamber door - to slam shut but he doesn't. Instead, he hears the doors- large, mahogany doors that stand proudly in the foyer. Troy feels his knees wobble and shake.

Well, shit. He didn't...making her cry- he didn't mean...growling, he marches- as a blind man could -out of his chamber, grabbing hold of the banister. "Gabriella!" His voice carries and echoes through the large foyer. Suddenly it's an empty feeling. Cold. Chilling. "Gabriella! I'm sorry!" he yells once more, walking half slow, half fast down the marble stairs. "Gab-" the clicking of nails on the floors distracts him and he turns his head. A low whine and the feel of fur brushing up against his leg.

His parents have changed already, is it so late? Oh no...it's nearly dark. "Gabriella!" Forgetting the banister- and stumbling; nearly falling on his front -he runs to the door (the only part of the castle that he doesn't need to reach his hand to feel around for) and grabs the handle; throwing it open. A strong gust of wind blows in; it's strong and nearly knocks him on his ass.

"Going somewhere Troy?" Asks a familiar three voices, Troy tenses and his eyes narrow. "You look good for a blind man."

"Get." He says, but he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"Let her go-"

"It's freezing! Dark! She could die out there-"

"You suddenly care?" The three voices ask at once, then again they are from one throat. Troy shakes his head and grabs her wrist, wrenching it back. "I said 'Leave'!" The woman stumbles back and watches as he runs out of the castle. She stops him at the gate.

"You're blind, Troy." The three voices stop him, his hands ball into fists. The three voices speak again, this time they are directly behind him; the woman's hands on his shoulders as she turns him around. "Even if you go into the woods to find her...you won't be able to see if it's really her-"

"Then you go." He says through clenched teeth, she shakes her head. He could see it in his mind, and he's never been more annoyed.

"I only came to check on you, see if you learned anything-"

"Gah!" Troy freaks, shoving her back. "Mother! Father!" The two wolves run out, stopping at his side; he felt their fur on his legs through his tights.

"Troy-" The woman says, but he stops listening to her; grabbing hold of his parents fur, they lead him into the woods. Searching for Gabriella, yes it is cold, dark even. They might not find her, but they might. The woman watches the three go off, her face blank and expressionless before he disappears into the thick trees of the woods. As they disappear she smiles, grinning from ear to ear; and soon the one enchantress turns into three beggar women again. They look at each other, "Shall we help them find her?" the middle one says, the one on the left grins wider.

"So they don't go far into the woods.." The one on the right nods, curling her knotted fingers around her staff.

"We wouldn't that...after all, it seems that Troy is beginning to learn his lesson after all." The women nod and vanish into the thin air.

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**:O Oooh! Cliff-hanger! What do you think will happen? Will Troy find Gabriella? What do you think of what happened to Gregor? Do think that now that Gabriella is in the woods as well that she'll run in to her father? Hmm...so many questions. What do you think of the return of the enchantress? What's your opinion of her? What do you think of how this chapter turned out? Will Troy and Gabriella make up? Do you guys (stupid question) want a Troyella kiss in the future of this story?  
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**~Elena  
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	9. Chapter 9

**"The Pianist" **

**~Chapter Eight~  
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**The air is **freezing, the wind that is blowing makes it even colder. The trees dance like savages around a fire, Gabriella huddles her arms close to her body; she didn't bring her cloak- as torn as it was...it may still be able to shelter her with some warmth. She shivers, shaking her head as the biting wind comes at her it's freezing nails digging into her skin. She refuses to cry, she won't cry. Not for that...not for that arrogant son of two incredibly sweet people. But that didn't mean her lips weren't still trembling- however, it can be from the cold more so than the emotions running haywire through her mind right now. Another tremor shudders through her, she picks up her pace. "M-maybe if-if I ...w-walk fa-faster..." she tells herself, her teeth chattering. Her feet are numb, perhaps she's not wearing proper shoes. Or any shoes. She left in a hurry, not thinking of the conditions outside...

Now she wishes she had used her common sense and not left in haste.

* * *

**Twigs, sticks, and **small rocks crunch under his feet; his fingers numb, but he holds tight to the fur of his parents that are pulling him through the woods. "Gabriella!" He calls out, his voice becoming drowned out by the winds. He shakes his head, shivering. "Gabriella!" He yells again, his parents sniff the ground- they aren't exactly the quietest at sniffing, but at the moment...Troy doesn't care. He presses forward, the two wolves at his side following and leading him at the same time.

Then one of them stops, whether it's his mother and father, he doesn't know. "Wha-what is it?" Troy shivers, he hears whoever it is sniff the air and pull their fur from his hand by yanking themselves away. The two wolves whine at each other, and it goes on for about a minute. Maybe more, but when he hears the crunching the ground moving away from him he knows that one of them has left. "Who left?" He asks, shivering to the bone as he grips the wolves fur tighter. "Mother or father?" The wolf at his side whines and strokes his hand with it's tail. A motherly gesture, Troy realizes. His father left.

"Let's find her." He says, his mother wolf tugs at him and they both go further into the woods. He calls her name again and again and again, but his voice echoes off only the nearby trees; he doubts that she can hear him over the wind.

* * *

**He is half trot**ting over the frozen ground and half running; his fur billowing in the wind and his ears twitching but remaining straight up as he runs. His nails dig into the earth, he inhales again...and he's not mistaken, that's blood he smells. He just hoped to God that it wasn't Gabriella's, if Troy is like this, how would he feel if she is hurt? Or worse...he shakes his huge head and pushes faster. Harder. Turning at the nearest and largest oak tree and then jumping over a root jutting from the ground, stopping for a short minute, he sniffs the air again and the scent is close. Too close. He walks around the tree, his nose to the ground and his tail wagging the same time his ears are twitching...and then his nose hits something.

Whining, he probes the object with his nose; the appendages twitch slowly. It's a hand. Still a bit warm, but not much. Warm and bloody.

He walks around to see the face of this man lying on the ground; his eyes are slits, a sign that he's fighting for consciousness. Sitting back on his haunches, David throws his head back in a howl, a low and melancholy sound that carries loudly over the wind. Oh, the first time he's grateful for this curse. He throws his head back again, howling even louder as he sits more so on his haunches with his front paws touching the nails of his back paws. This man is cold, injured...and sick. If he didn't get him to shelter and warmth soon, this man can die.

David howls again. And again. And again.

* * *

**The howling throws **her off, making her jerk her head in the direction that it's coming from. Every muscle in her body recoils and her fingers clench tightly against the cold, her leg is sore and her face is more numb than her feet are. Every instinct in her body is telling her to keeping going, walk away from the howling. Wolves mean danger. But, that doesn't mean that her curiosity doesn't get the better of her. It does. Turning her feet toward the howling, she walks in that direction; swallowing more than five times to keep her fear within her. Yes, now is a time to summon up her bravery; or what she has in her...is she even brave? Shaking her head, she picks up the biggest stick she sees, gripping it tightly as she gets closer.

The howling sounds like it's nearby, but how near? _"Aaaooh!"_ it comes again, she swallows once more and then after the howl she hears, _"Gabriella!"_ Her name sounds nearby; coming from the opposite direction.

* * *

**It must have **been hours that they are out here. He is more than just 'numb'...he can't find a word to describe how cold he is, but he feels like his face has been shoved in a bucket of ice. No water, just ice. It's amazing how he still manages to call out for Gabriella, his mother huddles closer to him; her fur warm and welcoming. "L-let..let's..." he doesn't finish the sentence, he just leans against a tree and closes his eyes; encasing him in more darkness than he is when he's awake. His mother whines, sitting on her haunches, and throwing her head back to reply to the howling. She knows it's her husband, what's he found? She wonders, wanting desperately to hold her son in her arms.

Damn curse. His breathing is ragged and sweat is on his hands and forehead. She nudges him with her nose, and he scratches behind her ears in comfort. "We'll-we'll find her..." he whispers. He regrets what he said to her, he didn't mean to upset her...but it's partially her fault; if she hadn't kept on talking about-

_"It's pathetic. You act like a spoiled child when you don't get your way and you will go to any lengths to get your way; you throw fits and tantrums, you're arrogant and-"_ Her words echo in his brain, like someone hitting his skull with a hammer or a hardcover book. And then he flinches at what he had said, and he feels worse than he had before.

_"You know nothing about me! So who are you to tell me what I am? How I act? You know nothing! You're just a peasant! A peasant who lost her way in the big, bad woods! I didn't even want you here, but my parents insisted on it! Why don't you just...just go! I'm happier- much happier here alone!"_ He was angry, he hadn't meant to- his mother nudges his hand and grabs his sleeve with her mouth; tugging on his arm.

"What is it?" He says, his mother whines some more and tugs on his arm. "What? Mother-" another howl splits the air, Troy may not be a wolf, but he can hear the urgency in it's tone. His mind draws up the worst conclusions and scenario's. His heart pounding in his chest, loudly, and behind his ears and ribs he grabs his mother's fur tightly but she shakes him loose going around him and between his legs. She bucks him slightly so he's sitting on her back, Troy grips her fur tightly between both hands. At least this is faster.

And he doesn't have to walk no more. His mother trots quickly in the direction of the howling; Troy's mind continues to draw up conclusions and scenarios that he hopes aren't real. He hopes that she isn't hurt. He already hurt her enough...

* * *

**The carriage ride **is bumpy, the curtains in the windows are closed tight and the shutters are locked. Adriana braids Sharpay's hair with her small, nimble fingers. The blond scoffs at her book, "this is why I hate reading." She closes it harshly and tosses it on the floor, her brother picks it up and dusts off the cover.

"Then why'd you bring it?" his tone is evident with boredom. Sharpay looks at him, but jerks her head when the bumpy carriage ride causes Adriana to pull at her hair. "Easy serf!" she yells, making the young girl shudder back and then braid her hair faster just to get done with it. She truly is an evil woman. "Ryan, brother, I brought it cause I knew I'd be bored-"

"You don't read." She rolls her eyes, "Of course I don't. But you can read it if you want to." Ryan sighs, tucking the book in his pouch and leans back against the velvet seat. Sharpay looks out the window, humming softly and checking her nails to see if they are 'perfection!'. A few seconds pass, Ryan lays down on the seat and huffs out a breath.

"Why am I going?"

"Huh?" She hums, looking at her nails still, but jerking her head again when Adriana pulls - accidentally - at her hair. "WATCH IT!"

"I'm sorry.." the girl mutters, finishing up her braid and then twisting it in a bun. Sharpay waves her off when she's done, looking at her brother; her eyes narrow and her teeth show.

"Sit up. You're royalty...act like-"

"Why do you need me to go with you to give Troy his invitation?" Ryan asks again, Sharpay laughs curtly.

"Male bonding."

"What?"

"If he likes you as a male companion, then he'll like me as a bride-why are you laughing?" She asks, crossing her arms over her non-existent breasts. She glares at Adriana who is giggling softly, she shuts her mouth instantly when pinned with the blond's glare. She looks down at her hands, biting her lip. Sharpay glares at her brother, who is laughing still, tears in his eyes. "Shut up, Ry." She says, teeth clenched.

"I'm...I'm...fo-forgive..Ha!"

"What is amusing to you?" She wonders, glaring him with a 'I will set you ablaze right now' stare, but he continues laughing; grasping his ribs and wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Just...noth-nothing! Ha!"

"I'm not laughing." She says blantantly, crossing her arms over her chest tighter; her small breasts looking a tad bigger. Keyword: 'tad'. Ryan shakes his head, calming his laughter and hugging his ribs for they hurt much. His tears of laughter drying on his face, no wonder he'll grow old with so many laugh lines...

"Just...the thought of you and Troy- the former prince of Faerie...oh my goodness-"

"It's not funny!" She yells, her voice raising three octaves, squeaking in a deafening manner. Ryan winces as his laughter immediately ceases, Sharpay pins him with the same 'set you ablaze' glare."Why is it funny? You think I won't make a beautiful bride?"

Not in this lifetime, Ryan thinks. Instead he says nothing, just looking at her and then out the window at the terrain that is covered in the shadows of the trees. Oi, this is a long ride.

* * *

**Gabriella takes sm**all steps, gripping her stick tightly and swallowing a lump in her throat the size of a walnut. She closes her eyes when she reaches the bushes, moving her hand to cast the leaves away, she blows out a breath and moves forward. But she stops in her tracks at what she see's, her eyes widen as she drops her stick and her legs instantly move with sudden haste to the heap of man lying on the ground under the wolf's furry belly. "Move. Move, you animal." she says, shoving him away, lifting the man's head and her breath halts in her throat. "Papa..." she whispers, "Papa..no..wake up...papa!" tears run down her cheeks.

"Papa!" Her voice rings loudly; even over the winds that are blowing around them. She runs her fingers through his hair and down his face, "Papa...please...you're so cold...papa!" The tree branches rustle and then the ground crunches, she snaps her head up to see a wolf...carrying Troy on it's back. She bites her lip, looking back down at her papa, her lips quivering. "Papa..please...wake up..papa-"

"Gabriella." Troy says, Lorana-wolf bringing him closer, and then sitting so he can slide off her back. "I'm sor-"

She snaps her head up, glaring at him, however, with her already misshapen left side of her face already that way it just looks like a deeper scowl. "Go away." He sighs, lifting his hands in front of him.

"You're...you're in front of me?" She sighs, looking down at her father. "Papa...please..." Troy moves a foot forward, his hands still in front of him. His mother grabs his sleeve with her muzzle and guides him to Gabriella.

"I'm sorry." She looks up at him, her eyes wary. "W-what?" He lets out a breath, feeling the ground and holding his mother's fur tightly as he knelt on the ground.

"I-I...apologize." Gabriella bites her lip, looking down at her papa again. "He's...he needs help. I have to help him..." she looks at Troy again, he sighs, cursing the damned enchantress for taking his sight; but he very well imagine what Gabriella looks like when she's sad. And the feeling it leaves him isn't a good one in the slightest.

"Gab-"

"What happened to 'you're just a peasant who lost her way in the woods'?" Gabriella says, looking at him, making him eat his words. He bites his inner cheek and runs a hand through his hair. How he wishes he can just...see her. He opens his mouth to say something but then the whining and slight growling of his mother and father makes him stagger to his feet, grabbing Gabriella's hand and pulling her behind him. "What-"

"Sh!" He shushes, listening intently. Silence, other than bristling trees and rustling bushes. David and Lorana growl once more, Gabriella starts to speak but Troy shushes her again. "Shut up-" a rabbit hops out from under a bush, Gabriella giggles, moving out from behind Troy.

"Don't move, it can probably smell fear." Troy groans, shaking his head. "It could've been something dangerous-" suddenly there is a groan from Gregor lying at their feet, Gabriella kneels at his side hurriedly.

"Papa!" She nearly yells, cupping his face, "papa...it's me..papa..."

"Gab..Gabriella..." he whispers, shivering. Grabbing her hand, "I was..looking for you-"

"Sh..." she shushs gently, "You need help, Papa." He groans, leaning his head on the ground. Troy sighs, feeling around to put his hand on her shoulder.

"Gabriella..." he lets out a breath, and runs a hand down his face. "he-he can stay with my family." Gabriella looks at him, her brow furrowing in the middle. "Why would you-"

"You said he needs help..I'm offering." Gabriella sighs, looking at her papa, she can't argue with Troy about him offering to bring her father to the castle. He needed help. Shelter. Warmth. Food. Her.

She nods, looking up at Troy, "Fine, but...how will we get him-"

"My pare-wolves..they're friendly." She looks over at Lorana and David, just sitting and staring at the place where the rabbit had hopped off to ...God to knows where. Gabriella bites her lip, but grabs Gregor's shoulders, he winces when the pressure goes to his hip and she whimpers.

"Papa-"

"I'm..it's just..."

Gabriella shakes her head, trying to sit him up gently and then place her hands under his arms to lift him; but when one's father is a mass of nearly solid muscle..."I need help.." she huffs out, Troy shuffles his feet on the ground and knots his fingers together behind his back. Gabriella can't help but think he's never looked more handsome than...actually, the only image to compare to now is when he's sitting at his piano; his face concentrated on the music he was making and his eyes- however blind -seemed to glow with the passion he carries with him. Lorana comes up to her, lifting his left arm with her snout and shuffling him on her back, David comes and helps too; adjusting Gregor so he won't fall off, then he goes to Troy and helps him sit on his shoulders; then Gabriella gets on, surrounded by the arms of muscle that is Troy's arms...and the scent that is white musk and...just heaven.

"Do they know the way back?" Gabriella whispers, Troy nods his head against her hair. Hmm, soap. Something so simple...can smell...so seductive.

"Yes." Troy says, "we'll be home soon enough." Gabriella frowns, her brow crinkling, home. That castle...it's not her home. Where she lives with her mama and papa and her brothers and sisters...that's home.

But...then why does her heart flutter when Troy calls it that?

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**~Elena  
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	10. Chapter 10

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Nine~**

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_Thank you HopelessRomanticGurl for her idea of Troyella fluff(: I hope you like it._

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**It's not cold **anymore, well it's a bit chilly; but there's a warmth that overpowers it. The only chill in fact is his head; a cold, wet chill and in his ear are quiet murmurings. A song? No...a psalm? Poetry? What is being whispered?

"How is he?" A small, tentative voice. He moans, shifting his head slightly but his eyes are heavy and they refuse to open.

"He's weak...tired.." Male. Strong. Sure of himself; who is he?

"I wish- I wish it was me lying there...he doesn't deserve to-" There's a swift movement, the man that was talking so near him has moved, but that doesn't mean that he can't hear them speak.

"Miss," says the man's voice again, "I assure he's fine, blaming yourself for his attack will not help him in the slightest." There's a sniffle and then a soft, warm hand caress' his cheek; the stubble on his chin prickles her hand and palm.

"He shouldn't have come looking for me- I shouldn't have gone into the woods-"

"Miss," the man says again, her hand is pulled away from his cheek. "Go talk to Mr Bolton. Surely he is more of comfort than I am here."

"But-"

"I am a healer...now, let me do what I'm supposed to do." There's a soft, womanly sigh followed by the jingle...bracelets? A necklace.

"I'm not sure if Troy wants to see me." There's a scoff and a tsk, the Healer is shaking his head as he goes back to tending Gregor.

"It's not like young master Bolton to be beside himself...but when you left out the door, he ran after you naught even thirty minutes later." The cool cloth is being dabbed on Gregor's forehead, the older man moves his ahead slightly once again; Gabriella hesitates to leave, the Healer sighs and looks over his shoulder. His eyes are warm and sorrowful at the same time, what a combination to have in one's eyes. "Your father is in good hands."

"Are you-"

"I'm sure, M'lady." the Healer nods, she bites her lip and shakes her head. "Take care of him..." her voice is weary, tired. Goose flesh litter her flesh from where she wishes her papa would just hold her...or maybe that's because as soon as she and Troy got here with her father he'd gone off and...hadn't said a word to her. She needs to speak with him; talk about his apology, talk about the things he said before he came looking for her- why he came looking for her? That didn't suggest he is as arrogant as she paints him to be, albeit he is arrogant and spoiled, but...maybe not as much as she paints him to be in her mind.

"He will be better by tomorrow, M'lady, I assure he will. He's in good hands." Gabriella nods solemnly, turning about on her heel and resting a hand on the door handle as she turns it. The Healer must know she is still in the room cause he let's out a calm- yet exasperated -breath and gestures her out by gently standing up from his position on the bedside of her father and then pushing her kindly into the hall where - as wolves - David and Lorana are pacing the floor. She freezes immediately and stares at them, they cease their pacing and watch her. Their eyes calculating.

"Thank...thank..." talking to wolves, if anyone's ever heard such a thing! She shakes her head, feeling her heart hammer in her chest as the flashback of her as a little girl getting attacked- no, she is not a little girl anymore. She will not let that flashback rule her life...

But still...no! Gabriella clears her throat, hugging her arms around her body as she turns and walks to where she knows is Troy's chamber.

* * *

**Perhaps he **should've followed her into the room where her father is? Been her comfort? Be. Yes, 'be', she needs it...preposterous. He's apologized, he's brought her back because it's freezing outside and she'd have frozen out there on her own...and her father? She'd have whined otherwise. He brought her back because he had thought she'd freeze. And be hungry. And...thirst and...and..

_You care for her. _The words dance on the edge of his mind; like a gypsy dancing tantalizingly around a fire with her face veiled and her eyes glittering in it's heated glow. Shaking his head, he stands up from his piano bench and walks slowly to the tub that the servants had brought up earlier; he begins stripping himself of his clothes and when he's fully naked and bare, he steps into the warm water. Sighing in contentment, he sinks into the water.

He leans his head on the tub of water that surrounds his naked body, his eyes are closed so he's encased once again in more darkness; but it's a comforting darkness. His fingers twitch in the water as he can practically hear music in his head- music that he will play on his piano later for sure. He huffs out a breath and lowers himself further in the water.

"Oh! I'm..I'm- forgive me- I-" her voice causes him to bolt upright, it sounds close...can't she tell that he's in a bath? However, the sound of her all flustered does amuse him. He feels his lips turn up in a smirk.

"Please, don't bother to apologize." He can sense that she is blushing, the temperature in the room has just raised. What he wouldn't give for one night of being able to see what colour her cheeks are tinted from that blush.

"I-I...the Healer said to...to.." ah, she's even more flustered; not that he blames her, has she even seen a naked man? Ever?

"Yes? What did the Healer say?" Is her father all right? Concern etches in his brow, but the teasing is in his voice still. Gabriella knots her fingers together, trying to look everywhere but the glorious when naked man in front of her. _It's rude to stare and he's above your station! _She chides herself, mentally giving herself a whipping so bad that if it were real, she wouldn't sit for a week. "Gabriella.." he says, bringing her out of her dizzying reverie. "Is your father all right?" She shakes her head to clear it and looks down.

"Ye-yes...the Healer just said to-I...I'm sorry I should've knocked. I thought you'd be at the piano-" he interrupts her with a slight barking laugh as he relaxes in the tub again.

"I was at the piano...and then I decided to bathe; the servants had brought up the tub full of water- hot water, mind you." Why is he telling her this? He sighs, "By the by, I didn't hear you come in...are you half ghost?" Surely.

"Uh.." she giggles a bit, and that sound makes Troy's mouth twitch up. "No-no...I just, I know how to be quiet." Not from what he's seen. Or not seen. He laughs again, running his fingers through his hair and this time he doesn't try to stop. Gabriella bites her lip, looking down; her fingers twisting in her hands.

"Stop..." she whispers, he must not hear her cause he is still laughing. She groans in irritation, taking a step closer to that tub- or maybe it is perhaps her desire controlling her body and emotions that caused her step forward and more forward to the point that are no bubbles in the water and she can see every inch of his naked being. And that means every inch by undressed inch. Something in her clenches as her breath hitches. "Please stop laughing.." perhaps now that's she closer- for whatever reason -he'd hear her and stop laughing as per her request.

"I'm...ha! Forgive me!" He's still laughing, clutching his ribs. She bites her lip, looking down at the water; trying to focus on just that and not what's inside it, but that doesn't stop the fact that she is barely breathing and her heart is beating...pounding...rabbit kicking in her chest. "Stop.." she sweeps her hand in front of her, causing her fingers to brush against the water; scooping some up in her palm and then...hitting him in the face with it. He instantly stops laughing and looks- well, moves his blind eyes to where she is.

"So..." he mutters, "you do have teeth." Gabriella swallows, fearfully taking a small step back, but Troy grabs the edge of the tub, grabbing with his hand and with his other reaching out to take her wrist. He smirks, and Gabriella knows to be afraid then. She blushes like mad when he stands from the water; showing his complete naked glory to her, she can't help but run her eyes over every part of him. "You really shouldn't have done that.." he says in a husky voice, she immediately adverts her gaze as if he can tell she's staring. _Now you've done it, Gabriella. _She tells herself.

Before she has the chance to utter a word, or even just to respond to what he's just said, she squeals as he uses his muscles to pull her into the tub; he catches her before she goes face first into the shallow water. "Ah!" he laughs, she blushes- the fact that a naked man is holding her in a tub full of hot water has nothing to do with it...nope...not at all. Then what is digging into her hip? She swallows, afraid to look down to find out. "Gabriella..." he says, pushing her down so she's sitting in the water while wearing her gown and then getting in front of her; settling his legs on either side of her. The blockade that is Troy Bolton. "You splashed me."

"I-I..." He is smirking, he can hear it in his tone. Using his hands, he feels up her arms; leaving a trail of burning fire in their wake. He leans forward, his lips brushing against her ear, "what is your weakness, Gabriella?" why does he make her name sound like a whispered prayer to a saint? She opens her mouth to speak, but she can't passed the sudden lump in her throat. Whatever was digging into her hip, is now prodding her where she doesn't want to be prodded. His fingers halt just at her underarms, the feel of her body- even if it is clothed -is wondrous; like a painter exploring his latest masterpiece, Troy traces circles on her shoulders; through the material of the gown, she fights back a groan.

She will not give him the satisfaction of urking her. Damn it's a hard feat. "Are you...sensitive?" her eyes widen, what?! If he wasn't crushing her beneath him, she'd shove him off and run out of the tub...if she found the strength to do such a thing, but right now? With his fingers drawing lazy circles on her and then the ...she looks down, seeing him. His length. His...shaft, swollen, large...prodding her. She blushes.

"You..you-"

"Pardon?" He teases, "are you speaking?" Yes, she is. Now get off. He laughs, trailing his fingers back down from her shoulders to her underarms where he tickles her lightly. She jumps, the apex of her thighs digging against his shaft. He laughs at her soft as a psalm moan. He tickles her again, she kicks her legs in the water. He chuckles. "So...you are sensitive.." he tickles her again, this time without abandon as she is kicking and laughing like the young child she once was.

"Ah ha ha!" She tosses her head to the side, "Troy! P-ple...sto-stop!" He laughs at her pleading, tickling her more and more. He shakes his head, scooting closer so that his knees touch the wall of the tub. And his shaft is now stabbing her pleasurably in her sex.

"No. You splashed me. I'm punishing you." Oh this is a punishment? Gabriella laughs, trying to grip his shoulders but it's near impossible when he is tickling her with such ferocity. When she finally manages to grasp his shoulders, she pushes him back, straddling him- where had the bravery come from? The water sloshes around them, and suddenly all playful fun stops when she realizes how close their faces are. They are both breathing heavy, she clears her throat as she slowly brings her hand up to remove some of his wet hair out of his face. He really is...quite a beautiful man. Handsome and sturdy. She's aware of his hands on her hips, but does nothing to tell him to remove them; he does that himself when he slides his left hand up her side, stopping at her shoulder when she tenses at how close he is touching her dismantled looking face. "What do you look like Gabriella?" He whispers, playing with the tip of her now-damp hair. "I want to see you.." she bites her lip, lifting his other hand from her hip and placing it on the right side of her face. She gasps at how warm his hands are on her flesh, she leans into his touch as he's examining her skin with his fingertips. And then he touches the left side with his other hand.

He feels his heart stop at the scars on her face, how her left eye dips down and her lips turn down in a half sneer. What happened to her? Was this when she ran away earlier...he feels guilt build up in him that he couldn't protect her from whatever had attacked her- "Childhood injury." She whispers, he tilts his head to the left. "I had gone into the woods...after my father..." her voice is soft, as if she's miles away. His thumb traces her lips. God, he'd give anything to see her; to actually see her. "It was a wolf."

"Surely a wolf can't leave marks like this-" he feels her nod in interruption, his heart...well, he doesn't know what happened, but his heart seemed to have swelled beyond the capacity his chest can hold. She had been hurt. "Where was your father at the time this happened to you?" She snaps her eyes open, glaring at him. Is he accusing her father-

"My father is not responsible for this!"

"I didn't say that, I just merely asked where-"

"I know what you asked! Oh!" She stands from the water; the gown that is not hers, but Lorana's is now wet and dripping when she steps out. He straightens himself, "Gabrie-"

"No," she says a little too loudly, glaring at him still. "My father had nothing to do with my getting injured as a child. I was the stubborn, little prat that followed him into the woods when I should've stayed at the house...when he told me too! How dare you accuse him of such a thing!"

Is he hearing her correctly, "That's not what I was-"

"Just...just..I don't want to hear it! Oh!" She marches toward the door, twisting the handle in her hand and yanking it open. "Gabriella!" she slams the door as his call to her reaches her ears. She leans against the flat surface, crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a breath. How can a man like that...just make her so...so...infatuated in him while he has the audacity to be so frustrating?

* * *

**"Are we there **yet?" Sharpay asks impatiently, gazing out the window; it's still dark, about an hour or so till dawn. What is taking so damn long? Ryan is asleep on the velvet bench of the carriage, Adriana- the lazy priss -is holed up in the corner with her knees drawn toward her and her cheek resting on her knees. Sharpay huffs out a breath when the driver doesn't answer. Poking her head out of the small window, "Driver!" She yells, "two requests, first...are we there yet?"

"Not yet, ma'am." the driver says in a monotone voice, as if bored with his line of work. Or just trying to hide his irritation at the blond. "And the other request?"

"Yes," Sharpay says curtly, "Speed up. I want to get there by dawn."

"Ma'am, the horses are getting tired-"

"And you're getting on my last nerve. Speed up. Or this will be your last ride as a carriage driver for the royal family." The driver rolls his eyes, and mutters a tolerant 'yes, ma'am' as he clucks his tongue and snaps the reins and the horses go from a walk to a quick trotting; but they are tired, and if Sharpay is working them hard still tomorrow and they haven't reached Bolton castle by dawn even then...oh, she would be mad. The driver shudders at her fury...then again, making her angry is what most of the servants live for; seeing her face pale and then turn blue as she breaths into a burlap sack to calm herself is more comical than when her brother -as a child- had soaped the ballroom and caused all the guests to slip on their faces. Oh, the driver laughs at the memory still, and Ryan is the better of the two.

"Hurry it up!" Sharpay yells before pulling herself into the carriage and resting against the back of the seat. She hates lazy servants. How can her brother sleep when the driver is being so...disobedient?

* * *

**:D Hope you like it! Don't forget to review!**

**~Elena xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Ten~  
**

**"Ma'am, are you **all right?" Gabriella opens her eyes to find a maid looking at her; well, she supposes it's a maid...but not many maids have ...beaked faces? Talons for hands? She clears her throat. "I'm...I'm fine." Lie, no she's not. The young...woman tilts her head to the side, her eyes big and brown and inquisitive.

"Would you like some lunch, Miss?" She asks, Gabriella shakes her head. Her damp hair flinging small water droplets on to her face. Suddenly, the fact that she was Troy's room while he was bathing struck her...and then the fact that he had pulled her into the water; and then the whole of their activities in the water...she feels the heat rushing to her face, making her burn bright scarlet. Her heart begins pounding again, and she swallows hard to try to squander it.

"I-I think I'll just go dry off. Where's Lora-Madame Bolton?" The maid nods with a solemn face, her eyes glazed over.

"I will go get her when the sun's up." Gabriella tilts her head, "Why?"

"Because she's not...ready to see anyone at the moment." Gabriella bites her bottom lip, looking down at her wet gown; shuddering at the coldness that suddenly wraps around her from where she still feels Troy straddling her. Tickling her. Then how she had shoved him and straddled him...how close their faces were...how much closer she would've had to lean just kiss him- no! It's madness! She hasn't even been with a man before in her life and she's day dreaming like some adolescent school girl about the most...the most...ah! She can't even find a good insult for him at the moment! Damn Troy Bolton and his fingers that leave trails of fire on her body! She clears her throat once more, straightening herself from the door and smoothing out what she can of the wet gown.

"Can I...I need to change." The maid looks at her, her eyes going up and down her body; as if noticing the fact that she's wearing wet clothes for the first time. She nods, "of course, would you like another silk gown? I'm sure madame Lorana will not mind-"

"No," Gabriella says shaking her head. Although, the silk gown is very beautiful and extravagant, it's not her. It's not what she envisions herself wearing at all; ever. "I..." she looks at the maid, at what she's wearing. A simple dress; plain blue cotton with white lace around the wrists...well, she'd do without the lace, but if it is sewn on the dress. Sigh. "I'd like what you're wearing."

The maid is taken aback, "B-but I'm only a maid; and this dress would not become you-"

"Silk doesn't become me." Gabriella whispers, hoping that if she says it to herself and others it'll be true. Maybe that's why Troy had touched her in the tub...he likes his women to wear silk. The feel of it on their skin.

Well, she won't give him the satisfaction. She'll dress as a maid. "Ma'am." The maid says, "it's nearly dawn, you should rest." Gabriella nods mechanically, knotting her fingers together and biting her lower lip. "Come, miss." the young maid turns on her heel and begins walking to a set of doors that is opposite of Troy's chamber but near Lorana and David's. For that, Gabriella is grateful, she wants to be near her papa...when he wakes - she hopes is soon - she must talk to him. She needs to.

He might help her understand ...the mystery that is men.

* * *

**Her tail swishes** in the air as she paces the foyer, nails clicking the grand floor. David, in his large wolf form, huffs out a deep breath and lifts his head from his paws. Normally, as a human he'd grab his wife by her wrists and pin her against the wall and sooth her stress and anxiety with kisses that grow into raging fires large enough to burn down the whole forests...but no, they aren't human at least for a couple more hours yet. Joy._ Love,_ David thinks; sending his thoughts to her. _Please stop pacing, you're creating a draft._Lorana looks at him and literally her shoulders roll forward as her muzzle trails the ground.

_When I'm a human again, we need to do something about this floor..._David rolls his eyes, shaking out his fur as he stands up and stretches. Lorana is pacing; back and forth. He grabs her tail with his teeth and pulls her back. She whines and turns around to face him. _What was that for!?_

_You._ David says, his eyes narrowing into slits. _Your pacing is annoying me._Lorana shakes her wolf head and looks up the stairs at the doors that lead to their chamber before she looks back at her husband.

_Forgive me for being anxious! We have an injured man in our chamber tonight! Gabriella is out of sorts! Troy is...well, he's in his chamber which is nothing new-_

_Lorana!_ Davids shouts, earning a yelp from his wife as she shrinks down on to the ground. He let's out a slow breath. _Do you not see it?_

_See what, David?_She tilts her head to the side, her ears perking up and her mouth drooping open slightly. Even in wolf form, David still manages to smile.

_How Troy immediately went after her when she left. How concerned he was for her well being; offering our place so her father could have someplace warm-_Lorana gasps, yes even in her present form, and shakes her head as she whines in excitement and renews her pacing. David sighs, sitting back on his haunches and looking at the stairs; they were in front of their door, but after Gabriella had shown that bit of fear he thought it best if they steered clear of her while they were wolves. Obviously, she's had a bad experience with them.

_Do you think they'll get married?_ Lorana asks, David whips his head around to find his wife staring at him. He laughs out in a bark,_ my dear, they've only just met and you're talking marriage?_

She shrugs,_ I've only known you on our wedding day._

_It was arranged, remember?_

_And it still is the best day of my life- second to having Troy that is_. David laughs out again, yawning and laying down with his head on his paws; Lorana joins him and cuddles deep into his side. Hmm...such a strong husband. She married a fine man, and if what David has said is true, then they'll be another Bolton wedding soon.

_You're thinking out loud again,_ David says, rolling his eyes, _get some rest. Don't dwell on it._

_You brought it up. _

_And I'm beginning to regret doing so._

_Then why did you?_

_I thought it'd make you calmer..._

_Wrong, love, wrong._

_Oi, just get some sleep already. The sun will rise in less than...I have no clue, but it'll rise soon._ Lorana barks out a laugh and brings her muzzle closer to her husbands, touching her nose to his and closing her eyes. Their breaths coming out in short, warm puffs. Soon enough, they let slumber drag them through peaceful bliss.

* * *

**He hadn't meant **to offend her. He just asked a question, 'where was your father...' he sighs, laying his head back on the edge of the tub of his bath- a bath that is less enjoyable without a woman..hmm, what Troy wouldn't give to have her naked in his arms. Her back arched below him; rising her breasts to his mouth as he suckles and teases each of her beautiful nipples- he shakes his head, standing from the water and calling out for his servant; who enters immediately.

"Y-yes?" Troy narrows his eyes, but smirking as he imagines the man's pathetic stance and voice quivering in front of him.

"My robe. Get it. Make up my bed, and bring me tea." His voice is cold again, void of emotion and laughter. Even to his ears, he sounds...different. With Gabriella he's can feel his smile on his face and hear it in his voice; how long has it been since had had laughed like she had made him laugh? Too long, Troy thinks. Much too long. The servant comes back with his robe and a towel, handing the latter to Troy so he could dry off and step out on to the floor, and then he helps him into his robe.

"Tea. Now." Troy commands, tying the sash on his robe, his servant nods fearfully- "I can't hear a bloody nod, you weasel! Speak around me!"

"Y-yes sir! Right...right away!" He scuttles from the room, Troy runs a hand through his wet hair and closes his eyes. Even blind, he finds the darkness from closing his more comforting than the darkness that surrounds him when he's awake. He doesn't at least see shadows when he has his eyes closed- shadows? He pops his eyes open, moving his head around his room. Nothing but blackness, but then his servant comes back into his chamber with his pathetic stance and voice. He's a shadow. "You-your tea will be ready in a mom-moment-"

"Blasted idiot! You're a shadow!" Troy yells, making his servant jump,

"I'm ..I'm..what sire?"

"A shadow! I see shadows! Black shadows...people!" Sort of, they are blurry and bleary shadows, but still...

"Should I tell you-your parents?"

"Don't mind it, it's just...shadows!" Normally, his servant doesn't talk to him but with the prince this excited, he's pushing his luck.

"Thi-think you're getting your sight back?" Troy scowls, again, the pathetic looking shadow of his servant.

"No. I don't, why? Because I'm shadows of people everywhere else is just stupid darkness."

"b-but...i-it's a step in the ri-right dir-"

"right direction? Ha! If it were then I'd be seeing more than just shadows!" He gestures wildly at his servant, "but look who I'm talking to! You're just a poor man who waits on persons who are much wealthier than you! You have no concept of what it's like to be blind! To be surrounded by constant darkness, you ...fucking idiot!"

"And yet here we thought you were making a change for the better." Says three warbling voices at the same time. Troy stills immediately, feeling every muscle in his body recoil, his jaw tick forward as it tensed. "We make you see the shadows of anybody who comes near enough...and you're still an ungrateful prat-"

Troy whips around, nearly falling but he catches himself on the tub's edge. The three beggar women look him up and down, "nice robe, by the way...very becoming of you-"

"What are you doing here, Wenches!?"

"Ah ah ah," the voices say at the same time, "Troy, treat us and everyone around you with better respect. We can make you see only blackness again. We just though you'd like to see a little bit of who is speaking-"

"Get out." Troy mutters, grabbing tightly on to the edge of the tub. He doesn't want to strike women that are older than him; he has that much respect.

"We came to check-"

"GET OUT!" Troy yells, the three beggar's sigh and shake their heads; hanging them in frustration. The first two, the oldest of the three, vanishs with a crack in the air, but the youngest lingers. Troy can feel her presence but doesn't speak to her, he turns his head away; as if trying real hard to see something. Anything. In front of him.

"We do care about you," the youngest says, he continues to ignore her. She sighs, looking at the servant, "bring the man is tea, please...make sure he's safe when he goes to bed- don't want him catching a cold." With her last tender words, she vanishes with a crack in the wind and leaving Troy to his self brooding.

* * *

**:D Another update! WOW! I hope you all like this chapter! For story information, be sure to check out my facebook page, it's called "Sa5m Greene". Also, I have a new story out it's called "Break Out" for those who like Supernatural and High School Musical, it's a cross over between the two. I hope you all will check it out and leave a lovely review for me. :)**

**Review!  
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**The faster ye reviews, the sooner I shall update.  
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**~Elena xx  
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	12. Chapter 12

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Eleven~  
**

**She tosses **and turns, throwing the sheets and blankets about her small form and burying her face in the overly plush pillows. She groans, how can they expect her to sleep? How? Her father is in the next room wounded and there...there's a...an attractive man who she wishes would just..touch her again- stop that carriage before it goes any further, she mentally slaps herself. Sighing, she sits up in the bed...looking around; it's dawn- well, nearly, the sun has only thirty or so minutes to rise -and the maid who gave her this cotton gown (she didn't take the apron; that'd be too much) had suggested she get some rest.

Graciously, Gabriella accepted. Mistake that was to do, she can't sleep; not when everytime she closes her eyes she see's a pair of blue - pale blue - staring blindly back at her. Feels his hands on her. Feels her legs wrap around his strong sturdy waist when clearly she is alone in this bed. There is two things she must consider, one, she is slowly losing all her reasoning to becoming a lust crazed, love sick puppy and two, she is just going insane to the point where she thinks she must be committed.  
Immediately.

"I'm losing it.." she mutters, running her fingers through her hair and tossing back the sheets; stepping on to the floor. Her fingers twitch, and her mouth is a small 'O' as she yawns, walking to the double doors. Where are Lorana and David? She hasn't seen them since...well, it was before she ran away...and now it's as if they had vanished off the face of the earth. She shuts the doors quietly, tiptoeing to the chamber that housed her papa; she needs to see if he's well.

She just hopes the Healer isn't there...he'd probably tell her to leave again.

And she really wants to see her papa. To speak with him.

* * *

**Pain. That's **what shoots through him every time he attempts a movement or makes one. Lying his head on the...very comfortable down pillows, he closes his eyes and takes slow, painful breaths; at least, it hurt less now than it did before. Damn wolves.."Where am I?" He whispers, opening his eyes to stare at the intricately painted ceiling. It was ...it's beautiful; clouds opening to the heavens to reveal angels flying out and the glowing, warm sun; so real he can almost bask in it-

"Papa?" He turns his slightly at the whisper, seeing the door crack open and then his daughter step inside. He feels chagrin fill him and he smiles like a fool, "Hey...Gabi..." his voice is hoarse, perhaps it's because of his injuries...and he's thirsty.

She goes to him, instantly curling into his side as if she were still a little girl; he embraces her tightly. "You scare me, papa...I thought that I...there was so much blood."

"Hey..." He whispers, making her look at him; he winces when his leg twinges. "I'm fine. Just fine...but how are you? Huh...you didn't come home."

"I got lost..." half the truth, but Gabriella think it's best not to tell her father of the wolves that had chased her up a tree and the two that had carried her here. "I'm sorry..."

"Is your leg bothering you?" She bites her lip, and shaking her head; holding him close to her. Gregor rubs her arm slowly, holding her close to him. He's grateful and thankful that she's safe and sound..but how did she get here? That's what he'd like to know...and she looks different. Seems different. The glow in her eyes...he looks up at the ceiling and frowns; pondering his questions. Yes, he's found his daughter...how is he to get home with her? Where in the woods is this ...castle? It looks like a castle...

"Papa...when you and mama first met...how did you court her?" He smiles, turning his head to her ever so slightly to keep from wincing. She's looking at him with bright, wide curious eyes.

"Have a man on the mind, sweeting?" She giggles softly, sitting up on the edge of the bed and taking his hand.

"N-no...just...well, it's just...I-I...maybe." He laughs softly, then groaning when his ribs protested. "He's the son of the couple who lives here..."

"You fancy him." It's not a question. It's a statement of fact, her father is always blunt about these sorts of things; and thus, forces the honesty out of her.

"I-I do...but he's...stubborn. Arrogant." Gregor laughs, again till his ribs protest against the strain.

"Sweeting," he cups her cheek, making her lean down so he can kiss her forehead. "Men...we're hard to know and hard to read..."

She shakes her head, "He-he wanted to feel my face-"

"Feel your face-"

"He's blind." Her voice is soft as she explains, Gregor nods and let's her continue. "I let him...but I put his hand on the smooth side...but he put his other hand on my marred...I-I...he made me angry." No need to say where all this occured, or explain the details of the 'such activities' they were doing that led up to this.

"Gabriella..."

"he asked where you were when...when I got this"-she moves her hair from her face, the scar is bigger than anyone other than Gregor, Gabriella, and Marina knows; going from her left eye, it travels down to her ear and then to her lips where it twists and puts her lips into a permanent half sneer. Gregor sighs, it's a fair question to be asked, but then he understands why she had gotten upset.

The questions does sound like an accusation. "Gabriella, maybe he didn't mean anything by it-"

"That's what he started to say."

"Did you let him explain?" She shakes her head, "no...I didn't let him." she looks down, playing with her father's fingers. He bites his inner cheek and makes her look at him.

"I think you should at least, let him explain, Gabi."

"But-"

"No buts...let him explain." A stern statement. He means it, she sighs, leaning over to hug him gently.

"I love you, Papa.."

"I love you always..now go; I'm not exactly fully recovered." She giggles, stretching a blanket over him and kissing his forehead before she leaves the room and leans against the door. Her papa says to let him explain; maybe she should apologize for losing her temper? She does feel foolish. Taking in a breath, she pushes herself from the door and starts walking to Troy's chamber, but stops in her tracks when there is a frantic, impatient knock on the door.

* * *

**"Hello! Any**body!" she yells, her blond curls flying around her face and her green eyes narrowed in fatigue. "It is I, Sharpay Evans!"

"Sister," Ryan says, who is standing behind her with Adriana at his side, "must you yell...the sun has only began rising-" she whips around in a flurry of curls and fluffy dress ruffles; her eyes glowing heatedly as she crosses her arms.

"We came here to give Troy Bolton his invitation and damn it, we're going to give him it!" She looks to Adriana, "you!" the young girl jumps and looks at the woman from her lashes, fiddling with the hem of her shawl- it has a tiny emblem on the far corner; the Bolton crest.

"Y-yes?"

"Go around back and see if anyone is home. The garden shouldn't be gated." Adriana nods, taking a step toward the far right of the castle, but Ryan grabs her arm and pulls her back.

"No," he says, glaring at his sister. "Sharpay, she doesn't have to do that. She can wait here, patiently, with us-"

"Ha!" She scoffs, "she's a servant Ryan...it's what they live for. They like serving people-"

"keyword right there sister, 'people'...not spoiled selfish brats."

"Pig!" Sharpay yells, marching up to him, and slapping his face. "You dare call me that?! I'm your sister!" Ryan's cheek stung, but he doesn't reply; he doesn't show any emotion when he just bobs his head and grabs Adriana by the hand and they walk around the side of the castle together. He can only take his own sister in small doses.

"Yo-you didn't have to do that." Adriana says softly, he looks straight ahead but from an askance view, he looks at her.

"You don't need to do everything my sister says." She bites her lip, stopping in her tracks; and since Ryan is holding her hand, he stops too. He turns to look at her, "does...did she hurt-"

"No," he says with a smirk, "trust me, what I feel like doing to her all the time isn't what her slapping me feels like." Adriana smiles shyly, Ryan takes his hand away from hers only to lift her face to him. She's confused as she tilts her head to the side, "What are you-"

"You may look at me, Adriana." He says, unlike his sister, he addresses her by name. Suddenly, she's aware of how close they are standing together.

"but-"

"I'm not my sister..God, no, if that is true I'd probably take my own sword through my heart; you may look at me."

"Sharpay says-"

"I don't give a damn what she says or thinks...you're a person. Not a speck of dust."

"Bu-" Oh how incredibly low does she think of herself? Ryan growls, pulling at her arm and pressing her against the side of the castle and then bracing his arms on either side of her; his green eyes are all she can see. And then it's his lips all she can feel on her own.

* * *

**:D A short chapter, yes. But I hope you all like it none the less, I know I'm a real bitch at updating...in the mean time, check out the story "Shades Of Memories" by Curious Girl. It's really great lol **

**I am super busy, but I'm trying to keep consistent with my updates; and that's hard to do when my boss suddenly puts me on a full schedule lol anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter.  
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**I hate Sharpay, can't you tell?  
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**.  
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**~Elena  
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	13. Chapter 13

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Twelve~  
**

**Waking in** the dawn is not something that's new to David, nor is it new to Lorana...but when they wake up in the foyer- well, at least they'd think they would've woken in the foyer, but apparently they had been moved to the ballroom. Still, they're thankful, cause there is one disadvantage to waking up from a night of being on four paws. You wake up naked.

"David.." Lorana whispers, poking at his bare shoulder; the cold marble of the ballroom floor has lost its comfort when she woke up, but the comfort of her husband's hard body-oh..okay, focus...wake him up. "David, there's some person at the door-"

"Have the servants get it." he groans, turning his head in his sleep, Lorana sighs and shoves him lightly but still hard enough to jolt him awake. His eyes open and he stares at his wife, they widen. "You're human?"

"It's dawn." She says, nodding, stumbling to untie her legs from his as she stands up. "We must dress." David looks around the ballroom and then at her again, his fingers twitching like his tail does when he's a wolf.

"Who put us in here?" His wife shrugs, looking around, "one of the servants more likely...I didn't hear Troy all night-" furious knocking on the door makes her jump, David catches her shoulders and hugs her close.

"Jumpy, dearling?" He asks, smirking, Lorana chuckles shaking her head and wrapping her arms around his neck; pressing her naked body against his own naked self. He groans when a pain below the waist starts to arise. "You love causing me that kind of pain don't you?" She giggles, her eyes twinkling; her hair making her look both wild and tamed at the same time.

"So long as I'm the only one who take that pain away, my love." she whispers, he smiles as he leans his forehead on hers; rubbing his nose against hers when she runs her fingers through his hair- the same length as Troy's, but a shade lighter. His hands run down her sides, sliding trails of fire over her flesh as they reach her buttocks. She moans lightly when his hands cup her softly, lightly squeezing.

"Only you can take it anyway...you're the only woman that I'll ever be with." She smiles, kissing his lips softly as she rubs her body sensually against his; he groans and deepens the kiss, his fingers working magic- sweet, hot...forbidden..- on her flesh. She moans lightly as his body cradles hers, and then the knocking gets louder; the king and queen pull away reluctantly from each other, but David pulls her toward him to whisper in her ear.

"Later...before we change." She smirks, tangling her fingers with his before she brings his fingertips to her lips and she kisses each one before placing her lips on his palm. His skin is rough, callouses mar them- years of childhood roughhousing, then when he was 21 he had joined the army as support to the villagers that had joined, and honor the one's that had died. David was a great king when he ruled, and then his best friend turned spy for the other side...and over threw him from the thrown; putting David and his wife and infant son in this castle in the woods; this castle that all the villagers say is "haunted". David smiles, running the fingers of his other hand through her hair, and staring into her eyes as he lifts her chin. God, he loves this woman.

"We must dress. You and one of your servants answer the door...I'll check on Gabriella's father."

Lorana nods, "and Gabriella...check on her, and Troy." David nods, kissing her lips softly once again and then pulling away.

"We should call the servants now." Lorana giggles, shaking her head.

"I like seeing you naked."

"You have anytime of the day- preferably when we're alone -to see me naked...and when we change, you see me naked then." She smiles, "and you're the most attractive man I've ever known. The only man I'll ever be with." David smiles, opening his mouth to say something but then the knocking gets louder and more persistent. He sighs, shaking his head and letting out a low curse.

"We must dress. You are very distracting." Lorana giggles, taking his hand and squeezing it lightly. He and her walk to the door of the ballroom, creaking the door open only just enough to peek his head through...the foyer is empty, and then he see's Gabriella at the top of the stairs; a look on her face as if debating whether answer the door or run back into the room she was in.

"Gabriella." He calls softly, she jerks her head toward him. "Come here, please."

* * *

**Was no** one home? Sharpay huffs, pounding on the door with her palm, with her fists, with her shoes- the most unladylike thing she will ever do...outside her bedchambers, but her parents don't know anything about their blond daughter's wonton side; how she sneaks outside at night dressed in an ill-fitting corset and dress with a cloak as she makes her way to the district where she awaits her callers or how she writes to the convicts in the jails throughout Faerie or when they have male convicts in the dungeons; how she sneaks down there when everyone -family and servants alike- is asleep and the guards to the heavy iron doors are leaning against the wall; the keys hanging off their hips.

It's not hard to see where men stand when they are in Sharpay's presence; when they get a look at her blond hair, brown eyes, and heavy breasts that overflow their fingers when they cup them. "Hello! Answer somebody!" She screeches, pounding on the door again. "I'm here with something for Troy Bolton!"

The door creaks open, revealing a tawdry looking servant; balding at the head and a scrunched up face that makes him resemble a grandfather snail. "Yes?" He asks in a high society voice. Sharpay scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"If you were working for me, and you answered the door after several knocks...I'd have your head on my dinner plate-"

"I don't work for you ma'am, how may I help you-"

"Where is Troy Bolton?" She hisses, marching in the door in the second most unladylike fashion. Her eyes wild as she looks around; the grand staircase not of any interest to her, the beautiful peonies lining the banister neither. The brunette holding a bundle of clothes as she knocks on large double doors that must lead to the dining room? Ballroom? "Who are you?" Her eyes narrow in annoyance, the brunette has her back to her; her shoulders slump forward. "Look at me! Tell me who you-"

"Gabriella." She whispers, still having her back toward Sharpay. The blond grows annoyed, walking up to her and gripping her shoulder tight and whips her around so fast that Gabriella drops the bundle of clothing. "Ah!" Sharpay jumps back, her face a mask of horror; staring at Gabriella's marred face. "You..you're hideous!"

"I...I-"

"Go away! Live in the forest where you belong! Who let you in here!?" Sharpay yells, Gabriella shrinks back; mentally crawling into the corner and burying her face in her hands as children from her childhood stand around laughing at her, calling her 'monster'...

'freak'...

'ugly'...

"I was brought here-"

"Clearly by the staff." Sharpay shudders in disgust, "ugh, just...get out of my sight before I vomit." Biting her lip, Gabriella kneels down; picking up the dropped bundle of clothes and she walks to the ballroom doors again; knocking, they open and a grateful looking David Bolton takes the bundle thankfully.

"Thank you, my dear...how's your father?"

"He-he's fine.."

"Is something wrong?"

"Uh-"

"Lord Bolton?" David looks up, seeing the daughter of his former best friend standing there in his foyer with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. "I was knocking on the door-"

"My wife will be with your shortly, we had a night together." Partly a lie, partly the truth. Sharpay smirks, "I understand wholly, I'l wait...in the meantime-"

"And if you insult Gabriella again while me and my wife dress...my wife is to kick you out without hearing what you're here for. Understood?" Sharpay's mouth flops open in aghast, her eyes widen; her arms fall to her sides. He's defending the staff?! Wait till her father hears this! "I said 'understood'?"

"Oh uh, yes...of-of course, Lord Bolton, your excellency...I won't insult her. Again." David nods, looking at Gabriella and patting her shoulder before closing the door to the ballroom. Gabriella sighs, turning around and going toward the stairs, but Sharpay grabs her arm and tugs her toward her busty frame before she can escape. "You know their son then?"

"Uh..." yes. "No."

"You're lying."

She shakes her head rapidly, Gabriella is not stupid enough to make enemies with the princess. "No..I-I I'm not-"

"You're lying. If you are having some sort affair-"

"No! I swear it! Me and Troy-"

"First name basis? Ha! I knew it! Where is he?" Gabriella swallows, looking into Sharpay's eyes fearfully; knowing the last person to ever deny a question asked by her royal -pain in the ass- highness was tied to four horses and then dragged through the village. The people forced to watch and listen as the person being dragged screams for mercy...mercy that never came, even when Sharpay had sneered at him and asked 'politely' one final time before sending him to the jails. Then there's the rumours about her that her friend Kaylee had shared with her one night; having been out with her fiance for a night stroll, Kaylee had seen Sharpay wearing a cloak that did little to hide her ill-fitting gown as she walked into the jail. The sheriff asleep at home, the keys to the many cells in her hands. Yes, most men committed crimes in the village just to get a slice of the pie that Sharpay always offered. Always gave. Yet no one is fearless enough to confront her about her actions; her secrets...for fear of what she'll do. "I'm waiting..." swallowing again, Gabriella nods hesitantly, leading her up the grand stairs and to the left. Soft piano music plays; the notes passing through the wood of the door and swirling around her, making her innards melt into a pool of water and her knees wobble as she guides Sharpay to them. He's playing.

"In-in here.." she whispers, looking down at her hands; knotted together by her fingers.

"Thank you." She says coldly, "you may leave me. Go...do what ever...staff does." Gabriella nods, not bothering to correct her; she's not staff. She is a guest, but Sharpay doesn't need to know that. Turning on her heel, she walks to the double doors where her father is.

Complications. She needs to talk to Troy, per her father's advice and request...and the princess shows up.

* * *

**The music** swirling around and in his head, his fingers dancing across the keys. His world is full of bright, bold colours...then he changes one note and all he can see in his mind- from what he felt...of her face ...and clothed body in the bath earlier -is a woman with a face that is gentle yet marred with twisted scars. Full lips that is turned down into a sneer on it's left side; her body is full and supple even in a wet gown. His lips curl in a smile as the song continues it's light and airy melody...

...and then a frantic clapping makes him stop. "That is...fantastic!" a voice shrieks, "I had no idea you could play so amazingly."

"Princess." He says, a light bitterness in his voice. "What are you-"

"I'm hosting a ball in a few days." She says simply, he hears her footsteps coming closer to him and then he feels her presence when she leans onto the piano; her breath on his cheek that causes his skin to itch annoyingly. He's never liked her even when he's known her clear longing doting eyes on him every time they are in the same chamber or room. He tries to avoid her at all costs. "And...I thought to invite you. Personally." There is an innuendo there, Troy can feel it. Does she even know about his blindness? No, how could she? He hardly see's her- pardon the poorly placed pun.

"Princess-"

"Sharpay." She purrs, Troy's gut wrenchs and he nearly throws his stomach contents on his piano.

"Sharpay...I am not sure about this-"

"I'll save you a dance-"

"Can I bring a guest?" Sharpay's disappointment fills the room, suffocating him like thick hands wrapping and his throat and squeezing. It's almost amusing to him.

"Uh..s-sure I suppose you can-"

"Great. I'll bring her with me."

"Her!?" She yells, "that is not what is intended-"

"Intended?" Troy inquires, standing from the piano and placing a hand on the surface so he won't trip when he moves; all right, so maybe he's trying to push her away by SHOWING that he's blind. "What is intended, Princess? It's a ball...harmless? I can bring a friend, can't I?"

"Well...well of course." Sharpay says, her teeth on the verge of being clenched.

Troy shrugs, "well then...I'll bring her-"

"I thought you meant a male companion." he laughs, his laughter echoing off the walls of his chamber, "male companion? ..I'm not that kind of man, Princess!" Sharpay flushes, that is...not what she means.

"I-I..you..oh! Are you coming or not?!" Why does her whole journey here seem wasted if all he's doing is laughing at her? Troy sobers, but he lightly chuckles at the thought of the princess thinking him flamboyant.

"I will. And I'll bring my ...friend." His highly attractive friend that he might have offended earlier. Sharpay nods, although it's a curt nod; and Troy is irritated that he cannot see it. If she were standing closer, he'd see her shadow...then again, he doesn't want her that close to him.

Ever.

* * *

**Hot kisses** trailing down her throat, his fingers working magic as the slide down the shoulders of her dress. Her hair, which she wears in a bun, is now cascading down her back and over her shoulders in dark red waves. She moans wantonly as her fingers run through his blond hair...his kisses, his lips...his hands...hmm..."Oh." She moans, "Prince...princ-"

"Sh!" He hisses, lifting his head and covering her mouth with his hand. His green eyes blazing into hers, "no titles, I am Ryan...and you are Adriana." Her heart flutters in her chest, his hand's warmth seeping into her lips and making feel warm all over. Down where she never thought she could feel warm.

"We shouldn't-"

"Shouldn't what?" He asks, burying his face into the crook of her neck; biting, nipping, licking, sucking and tasting her flesh. She melts against him, her hands running through his hair, down his head and to his chest where she finds the ties of the tunic he's wearing...she just has to pull the strings once and she can feel his bare chest under her palms. "Do you like this?" He whispers against her skin. She only moans in response, he chuckles heartily and kisses her flesh once more before he kisses her lips again; pressing her further against the wall of the castle. Just pull the tunic strings once...just once...just-

"RYAN!"

* * *

**:) It's an update! Yayy! What do you think!? Let me know! **

**The faster ye all reviews, the faster the next update shall come!**

**~Elena xxx**


	14. Chapter 14

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Thirteen~  
**

**He thought** he had handled it well. Pretty damned well. The princess coming into his castle and just walking into his chamber as if she's the princess of this castle as well...he scoffs, leaning against the door as he hears her footsteps practically rush into the foyer- the faint sound of his parent's voices asking if she was all right. Oh, he'd give anything to see Sharpay's face right now. Ever since they were children, he loved tormenting her; making her goo-goo eyes go from doting to sad in one hour in five ways. She's tried to turn the tables on him, sure, but...he always gets the jump on her.

And she's such an easy target. So easy. He sighs, pushing himself slowly from the door and reaching his hand out in front of him so he can walk to his bed; he's tired- sure it's midday, but he hasn't slept since...since...Since you rescued Gabriella, and her father, and brought them back here...how many days has it been? One? Good Lord, it feels like a month. Oh, that's how long he should sleep. Every muscle and tendon in his body is fatigued and yet...his mind reels back to earlier..in the bath; and his groin tightens against his tights. Mm, delicious memories of pulling Gabriella into the tub of water, that tickle fight...her letting him feel what she looks like...

Him practically -no, not practically, he did- insulting her. He sighs, he should talk to her. He yawns, perhaps when he's more awake. Finding his bed with his legs, he bends slowly and slides on to his mattress; putting his face in to his pillow. More darkness to overlap the darkness that greets him when he is to wake. He sighs, letting his body relax against the tension that fatigues him; the rolling of his shoulders making his eyes close his breath slow. His pulse slow.

Suddenly, what he remembers is that Sharpay had invited him to a ball...that she's hosting in a month? Or did she say next week? He'll have to write her...or rather, have one of the servants write down his words while he spoke; he curses his ignorance for not properly learning HOW to be blind and not learning how to read or write while being blind. Curse him. Yawning again, he buries his face deep into his pillow and welcomes the slumber that comes forward and takes a hold of him...

...and a sweet dream of a woman who is small in stature and fiery as any other woman that he's...well, in a long time, that he's heard of. Together they dance, together they wear masks, and ...he still cannot see her face.

* * *

**Her visit** to Bolton castle was...less then successful, Troy had just basically verbally slapped her...says he's going to bring another woman with him to the ball! Ha! Impossible, there is no other woman as beautiful as she! Especially not that...that...beast of a servant ...whatever her name is- Sharpay had forgotten; not that she planned on remembering, someone that ugly is not worth remembering. Not of any importance. She expected many things when she had left the doors of the castle in her huff, but finding her brother fondling- FONDLING! -her personal servant...and then the whore daring to grab at his tunic strings! Oh, the nerve! She leaves the castle, sees them not awaiting by the carriage and hears moaning...talking...so she follows; she finds them? Ugh! It's a disgusting display. Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrows her eyes at the two. "What do you think you are doing, brother?"

Ryan clears his throat, standing in front of Adriana, his hand finding her's and gripping it tight. Sharpay nearly gags, "It's none of your concern-"

"She's a servant, Ryan!" the blond yells, "of course it's a concern! You can't go snogging any whore that you seek-"

"Never call her that!" Ryan yells, his blood near to a boil, "She isn't a whore!"

"What do you call her pulling at your tunic strings?! She's...she's...she's below your station! Think of what anyone else who isn't family would've thought! You'd be cast out of the family-" Ryan fixes his eyes in a glare and pins them on her, if looks were lethal enough to burn and kill...his would be a weapon.

"Maybe that's what I'm aiming for, sister." His words are quiet, not the yelling from earlier. He's angry if his words are quiet, Sharpay knows better than to push him...but then, her temper is flaring; her anger is high...and she doesn't quite know how to keep her mouth shut.

"You ...you...you...ugh!" Nor does she know how to make a proper insult whent the situation calls for it. Turning on her heels, she marches toward the carriage; her earlier huff seeming much calmer compared to this tirade with her brother. Ryan sighs, running a hand through his hair and looks at the scared, frightened girl behind-slash-beside him.

"I apologize." He whispers, she looks up at him, his green eyes sincere, "my sister-"

"She frightens me." Adriana whispers, her voice barely there, Ryan laughs and holds her close to him in a lover's embrace. "I hate her. I know I-I...shouldn't say that about her-"

"She's easy to hate. Hard to love. I'm sure she doesn't know what love is...given the countless of times she sneaks out and goes to the low district-" Adriana looks up at him, her lips quivering; they're swollen from their heated kisses that were shared prior to the storm...oh, but Ryan wants so badly to kiss her lips again. He stares at her, so long that she looks away but he forces her to look at him. "Don't look away from me, Sweeting-"

"Sweeting?" She tilts her head to the side, he smirks, kissing her cheek lightly. She blushes.

"It's a term that-"

"I know what it means," she giggles, looking up at him with flaming cheeks. "I just...only my papa has ever called me that." Sadness clouds her eyes, thinking of her papa...how he'd hold her when she was a small child; he was a friend of David Bolton...even though he was his servant, him and her were treated almost like family. Troy was her best friend- she hoped to think that he still is, but she hasn't seen him in years. When Evans had dragged him through the town naked, over the roughest road leading out of town...while she was forced to watch as a 8 year old girl. She cried out for her papa, hearing him cry out...and the worst thing? Evans watched as it all happened; some 'great' king. His daughter had that smug smile on her face, holding her fathers hand as she laughed at her father's misery and pain being dragged through town. Ryan? Adriana at that age wasn't paying attention the son...in fact, he was hidden from most the town- sent off to schools in other high society villages and cities that weren't Faerie. It was when he returned when Adriana was 13 that she noticed that Evans had a son. At first she thought him to be like his father and sister...  
...but then something changed her opinion of him.  
Completely.

"What happened to him?" She looks at him, taken aback by his question. Did he really not know? Not know the cruelty that was dealt to her father the day that he was murdered? How the king Evans just...heartlessly ordered him to be dragged, and then watched with quiet resolve as he screamed? As his own sister did the same thing as their father? "Adriana?"

"He-he...died." Half true, "when I was 8." His face falls, staring into her sadden orbs; to lose someone close to you so suddenly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, cupping her face and placing a chaste kiss on her lips. She can't help but lean into him as her knees wobble. She sighs, running her fingers through her hair, making her eyes dry their unshed tears and look up at his.

"It was a long time ago." And she hated Sharpay and king Evans everyday for it. She couldn't hate Ryan; he hadn't been there, he had no idea what had happened.

"Come," Ryan says calmly, taking her hand gently. "My sister will be angry if we don't hurry- though she is comical when she's angry." Adriana giggles, nodding in agreement.

"Aye, she is." For once, Ryan notices her accent...strange how he never noticed it before. "Scottish?"

"Aye."

"I love accents." She giggles, squeezing his hand and stopping when they reach the carriage, seeing Sharpay glaring at them. Ryan glares back. "Sis-"

"The whore stays. She will not defile the family name, Ryan." she crosses her arms over her chest. Her twin brother breathes deeply, oh how he wishes to kill his sister right now- he certainly has the skill.

"She's not a whore-"

"She is to me. Seducing my brother-"

"She didn't seduce me!"

"Yes!" Sharpay yells, "she did! And for that she WILL stay here or be killed in the forest!"

"You don't have the jurisdiction! You're not the queen!" Sharpay gasps, as if offended by her brothers crude- and very true -exclamation. Her lips flop open and closed, and her arms squeezed so tight around her breasts that he feared they may pop from her bodice and make an entrance. That may excite the carriage driver.

"Well!" She hisses, "if..if you say that...then-then...YOU AREN'T MY BROTHER!"

* * *

**He looks** much better now, resting peacefully in a bed of silk and satin sheets. His wounds are bandaged, his fingers laying lazily on the flat of his bare stomach; which lifts slowly with each breath, she sighs, interlacing her fingers with his and squeezing them lightly. "Papa..." she hates to wake hime, but she needs someone to talk to and she knows she mustn't disturb Lorana or David while they are dressing-

"Gabriella," she turns her head quickly, seeing David standing at the doorframe. Fully clothed. Thank Heavens. "I was going to check on him..." she smiles a small smile of gratitude, and shakes her head.

"Thank you," David sits by her, looking from her to her father; his eyes trailing down the scars on her face. She clears her throat, getting ready for him to cast her out to.

"He should be up and about tomorrow, but not so much that he's about to walk away from here." She sighs, looking at her sleeping papa through her long lashes, and then David lifts her cheek. "Why did you run away? Had Troy something-"

"No offense to you, Sir...but he's arrogant." David chuckles to her surprise, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair - that is the same length as his son's, but perhaps a little darker with sprinkles of gray; but the sprinkles aren't noticeable. She knows where Troy got his looks from, but looking at the man's eyes he doesn't have his father's eyes. No, he obviously inherited the blue's from his mother. Blue eyes, hmm...

"You look tired, Gabriella. Go, rest. I'll watch over him."

"But-"

"Gabriella." A paternal gesture, but Gabriella smiles and yawns as she stands up and knots her fingers together. Biting her lip. Suddenly, she leans forward and wraps her arms around David's neck in a hug, he's surprised but immediately embraces her back long enough for her to whisper in his ear- which is another surprise.

"Thank you." With that she pulls away and turns to walk out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. David sighs, looking at Gregor, "she is a wonderful girl you have there, sir." he says, "she'd be good for my son..."

* * *

_**Her hands** are supple and warm, soft. He hears music play around them, he leads them both in a waltz and feels her lean into him; her head on his chest..he lays his cheek on her head, breathing in her soft scent...drinking it in. Letting it consume him. "Mmm..." she purrs softly in a light moan, he feels himself smile. Oh he'd give anything to see her! What does she look like right now? A princess, he can imagine it...yes, she looks like a princess. What kind of gown is she wearing? The material is loose, flowing around her, but comfortably tight around her waist and breasts. His fingers itch to cradle those lovely sacks in his hands while kissing her, but now both is on her hips as they dance to the slow music. _

_He spins them, slowly and then pulls her further against him as he feels his way up her body to her chin, cradling it in his hand. He wishes he could see her eyes. What colour are they? "I can't see you...but, I know you look breathtakingly beautiful," he breathes. He feels her lips, how they curl when she smiles- the left side permanently in that sneer. But still, beautiful. _

_"I'd look better without my scar." She whispers, her hands on his chest, they've stopped dancing; just standing in one place, holding onto each other. Not wanting this moment to end. _

_"Again, I may not be able to see you...but you're still beautiful. Breathtaking." She exhales a soft breath; a warm breath, that makes him feel glad he's holding her chin with his hand when the sweet breath hits his face. He breathes it in. Drinks it in. Until he's overwhelmingly drunk just on that. On her._

_"Troy..."_

_"Mm.." _

_"Can I ask for one thing of you?" _

_"And what's that?" _

_"Kiss me..."_

* * *

**Hey! Happy Single Awareness Day (also known as Valentine's Day!) I wanted to update this chapter today, anyway I hope you all liked it! Don't forget to review! Please? xx **

**The faster ye reviews, the faster the next chapter will be posted. **

**~ Elena xxx**


	15. Chapter 15

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Fourteen~**

_**He feels** his hands on his bare stomach, his lips press firmly against hers as their tongue finish the dancing they were doing prior to this. He doesn't know where they are, what part of the castle they are in...but he knows that it matters not, not when he's in the most wonderful place that is the most welcoming. With her fingers running through his hair that was tied back, his waist coat was buttoned; his tunic strings tied...and then things got heavy. Heated. Loving. Her fingers drawing circles on his stomach as they climb up on his stomach under his tunic, he moans and pushes her against the wall; feeling the smooth roughness of the bricks as he blocks her between him and it. Not that she'd runaway from this, he thinks. "Mmm..." she moans, he slides his kisses from her mouth and down her throat; nipping at the soft and tender flesh that awaits his teeth. The trail of burning flames that follow after..._

Knock. Knock. _He can stay like this for ever..._

"Master Troy!" knock. Knock. "Your mother craves a word with you!" groaning, Troy lifts his head; a delectible dream and he has to be woken from it?! Why?! The servant knocks again, he lays his head on the pillow again- he had moved in his sleep, he is lying on his back with his arms out and his...southern apendage standing up like the knights in the hallway. Long, hard. Hmm...

"What is it?!" He yells, sitting up on his elbows; darkness still. He sighs, if his dream...if it were real he wished that were enough to make him see again. The door squeaks open, making Troy turn his head toward the huge door. The timid cough of the servant suggests that the poor sod is looking at his feet and not at him directly. "What does my mother want?"

"Uh..well, it is nearly supper-"

"Supper?" Holy hell, he slept for the day! He hadn't wanted to do that! "Why is it no-one woke me earlier!" He kicks off his blankets and throws his feet over the edge of the bed; running his fingers through his hair that stops at his shoulders. He hates his hair, its long and in the way all the time. The servant coughs.

"I'm sorry forgive me-"

"Whatever." Troy scoffs, feeling the floor with his feet for obstacles. The servant watches him, "would you like some help, young master?"

Troy sighs, "No I-" he stops before the words leave his mouth entirely. His mind drifting to the woman in his dreams. He knew it was Gabriella, he recognized her voice even in his dream state...he must impress her. He must. She is his 'friend' that he is bringing to Sharpay's ball...the servant- in a state of temporary shock stands where he is, until Troy clears his throat. "You said you wanted to help-"

"I just...you never-"

"Is Gabriella going to be at supper?" The servant watches him intently, as if a snake watching its prey.

"I haven't a clue...I haven't gone to get her yet; but your father says that her father will be joining us this evening."

"What?!" Troy barks, however he cools instantly after so it's more from shock that he raised voice. The servant clears his throat and walks to him, helping him by his elbow it's a good thing that he's already dressed and didn't strip down to nothing. As proud as Troy is and how he hardly asks for help from...anybody, the servant is shocked that he took him up on his offer. The servant takes a step back and clears his throat and folds his hands in front of him. "Isn't he not well-"

"Your father and the healer both agreed that he is-"

"And you couldn't ask them about Gab-"

"Wouldn't that not appropiate of me to ask of, sir?" Troy sighs, running his fingers through his hair again and then pinches the bridge of his nose. The servant takes a step toward him and grabs his shoulder and arm, gently guiding him to the door. The males are both silent; servant is still reeling in slight shock that the young master has accepted his help at all. It's not like the young prince at all to accept any help, he's always been...headstrong. Reeking of masculinity, whereas he himself admits to anyone who asks that he has more effeminate qualities that of a woman than a man, and enjoys...well, enjoys things that a woman would. Quite flamboyant.

"Thank you..." Troy says, grabbing on to the railing, "I can take it from here-"

"You know the dining room is on the left?"

"I listen for voices and sniff the air like a dog...I know." The servant nods, Troy see's his bobbing shadow; bless the witches, the shadows that he see's are becoming clearer, darker still, but clearer.

"Shall I go get Gabriella?" Why does Troy's stomach flip at her name? His cock harden at the very idea of feeling her under him? His mind whirling back to that dream he had been having before he was interrupted- "Sire?"

"Uhm," he coughs, shaking his head and grabbing tight on to the stair railing. "Y-yes...get her for dinner." The servant nods, once again Troy thanks the witches for letting the blindness lift to the point he can see only shadows. At least it's something...but there's the fear that it may go back to complete darkness. Nevermind that fact, that he may see shadows of people, but he cannot see shadows of objects. So...he must be careful when even walking down the stairs. Don't want a concussion now do we?

* * *

**Such a short chapter, yes, and I'm deeply sorry that it's been awhile, but I have three personal novels that I'm working on...and I've been busy and all with my family. Again, I'm deeply sorry for not updating a longer chapter and also not updating sooner...**

**Please forgive me, and don't forget to REVIEW!**

**~Elena xx**


	16. Chapter 16

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Fifteen~**

**The bed** is soft; definitely softer than what she has at home. Home, oh...she misses it. Her siblings fighting over who has done what chore and whose turn it is to do it next; Gabriella settles it by having them work together always. Her mother, whose been sick in the last year and is now better, would join her side as her father - always on the younger children's side - would always stand by the youngest ones. The older women won each time. Snuggling deeper into her blankets, she closes her eyes tightly; curling herself into a small huddled ball. Dreaming of home.

Home cooked bread, porridge and goat's milk from Mildred the family goat.

And then that disruptive knocking at the door wakes her from her pleasant nap and pleasant dreams. Biting her lip, she tosses the covers away from her and crawls out of the huge, luxurious bed. At times, this is...the room of her dreams; where she has always thought that she was meant to be..but she misses home. That small cottage that is nearly filled to the walls and roof and rafters with a large family. A large loving family.

"Mademoiselle!" more knocking. "Supper is nearly done and almost served, are you prepared for it?" No, she's not, but she is not about to be rude and stay up here all night. Then again...can't she claim she's fallen ill? She shakes her head, no, cause then Lorana and David would call for the healer and the healer - bless his soul - is already tending her father. Suffocating a yawn, she goes to the door and opening to reveal the right side of her face- a poor reason for hiding the monstrosity of her left side is that she has no reason; she just doesn't want it seen.

Perhaps that is why Troy being blind is a blessing. "Uhm...what is for supper?" She asks the servant, the man smiles at her and bows his head slightly; there's an urge to tell him that is not necessary, that she isn't royalty but she bites her lip and waits for him to straighten himself back to an erect position. He smiles at her still.

"The chef's special. Are you ready for supper? Do I need to send a lady maid?" She bites her lip and shakes her head. Her curls flying about her head and face, a mane of brown - almost raven - locks. The servant sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Well, I'll tell chef to set an extra plate ready, and...Master Troy will be pleased to know that you're joining us-"

"Troy?" She says, why does her heart skip a beat at his name? Her skin itch for his touch even if she is wearing a gown?

"Yes, ma'am...he has been wondering if you are joining us-"

"Oh," she knows she must speak with him. But...perhaps she can put it off a while longer. "uhm...suddenlyI feel...a little ill, can-can I take my supper in my room?" Yes, that's an exceptional excuse. Illness; but hopefully the healer won't think anything of it and come up to check on her. The servants face scrunches and his brows knit together as if in a deep thought; she bites her lip and hopes to Lord Almighty in Heaven that she looks ill; with the way her heart is fluttering in her stomach and chest, she certainly feels that way.

"Should I get the healer-"

"No!" She says to quickly, clearing her throat quickly and recovering her blunder. "It's not er, not that kind of sickness. Just a touch of dizziness." If the servant doubts her excuse, he doesn't show it, he just nods and turns on his heel after wishing her wellness for the evening. She shuts the door quietly and leans against it; closing her eyes to draw in a breath to calm her racing heart and the butterflies in her stomach that refuse to be squelched.

* * *

**His foot** is bouncing; more than a toddler who has been given too much sugar. He's never been anxious before, okay, well that's a lie; he has been, but never htis anxious. And just because he's blind doesn't mean that he can't feel his mother and his father and Gabriella's father's gaze on him. This is why he always takes supper in his chamber, why? Because he isn't stared at like this. Never.

Perhaps he should've just took supper in his chamber; what possessed him to join everyone in the dining room? The handle jostles and every muscle in his body tightens as he imagines Gabriella walking into the dining room, sitting next to him- seeing as he made sure that the only seat available is by him. He sucks in a breath and fists his hands into tight balls; his knuckles turn white at the effort he is using to squeeze his bodies tension into his hands- there is one part of his body that has tension that no amount of knuckle squeezing can get rid of.

And that's the most painful tension a man could ever endure. "Uh.." a masculine voice, that...is not Gabriella and every muscle in his body tensed for reasons of ...well, reasons that he knows naught of. "Miss Montez is-"

"Yes?" David says, Troy bites his lip. "What about her?"

"She is not feeling well, so she has requested to take supper in her room." Bollocks. Troy let's out a breath, wishing he could see more than human shadows at this point; damn those witches.

"Oh my," he hears his mother's voice chirp; how sympathetic of her, he can just see in his head how she puts her hands over her bosom and her eyes shine with an immense and suffocating sympathy. "I hope she's not feeling to dreadful."

"I should check on her." Gregor pipes in, Troy hears his chair scoot back and then a slight wince of short pain.

"No." Says the unfamiliar voice the usually seen-and-not-heard healer, "Mister Montez, sir, you are still recovering from your injuries; being down here is too much a risk cause you had to move, but going up-"

"She's my daughter," Gregor says, "I'm going to check on her." Admiration for the man makes Troy mentally see the bond between Gabriella and her father; how driven the man was to search the woods for her and take her back home. He sighs, folding his hands in his lap as he listens to the healer and Gregor argue and sooner David is pulled into the argument. Troy sighs, shaking his head and wishing he could see the table in front of him; wondering how hard he'd hit his head before he started bleeding at the skull...

"Sirs," the servant says, "maybe it's best if we leave her be for now?" a kind suggestion.

"Agreed." Troy says, the statement is shocking -mostly cause his parents never have heard him agree with a servant before- that Lorana, David and the healer are staring at him. He can feel their gazes. He turns his blind gaze on Gregor's shadowed silhouette. "Perhaps, after supper, I can check on her? If it's all right with you..."

A moments silence and then- "All right," David says, his voice feigning fear, "who are you and what have you done with my spoiled and selfish son?" Troy rolls his eyes, and continues to keep his blind eyes on Gregor.

"I'm sure that she'd like that," the older Montez man says, "she's been meaning to have a word with you."

"You haven't yelled at her yet?" Lorana says, why does everyone assume that he yells at everyone?! Utter silence, his mother clears her throat. "You don't have to shout you know?" Shit, has he spoke his thoughts aloud?

That'd be the first time.

"I just want to see if she's all right, Mother." He says, his voice turned down as he moves his eyes to in front of him. Staring at the blackness that fills his vision everyday. He hears his mother 'humph' and then as Chef comes into the dining room, the servant goes over and tells him that Gabriella will be taking her supper in her room. Everyone else is served at the table.

* * *

**"I want** a masque." Sharpay says snootily, crossing her arms over her chest and jutting out her lower lip. The carriage has only been on the journey back for the one day and she's complaining to anyone who'll listen- which is no one -about how Troy says he'll bring a female friend of his to the ball with him. How she is intending a plan to keep him and his female companion away from each other so she can make a move on her future groom. Troy is hers. He will be hers.

"Sister," Ryan says, but he stops when she glares frostily at him. He shakes his head, "you are my sister whether or not I have kissed Ariana-'"

"Gah!" She screams, "servants don't have names! They are worms-"

"Why do I bother speaking to you?" Ryan asks idily, more to himself, resting his chin on his palm and staring out the window of the carriage as they pass through the thick brush. Adriana sits by Sharpay- who forbids her to sit near Ryan for anything -biting her lip and fiddling with her fingers; eyes down, hair in her face.

"Because I'm the one whose going to get the throne when papa dies." She sounds smug as the words roll off her tongue, Ryan clenches his fists and adjusts his collar of his tunic; his skin itching to feel Adriana's hands on his flesh again and her fingers through his hair- which is no longer unkempt from her mussy touch, but tied back smoothly with his ribbon.

"When that happens I'll hang myself in the town square." He mutters, Sharpay hasn't heard him but Adriana did and she gasps from shock when her eyes widen and she looks up at him like a frightened doe. He lifts one corner of his mouth in a comforting 'I didn't mean it, but I would trade anything for my sister not to rule' smile. Her nerves aren't calmed. Sharpay imagines herself sitting on the throne, being loved and adored by her subjects; a statue of her honorably standing in the town square and the finest of gowns being given to her by neighboring countries and villages. Of course Troy at her side-

"What if Troy doesn't desire you?" Sharpay gasps and glares at him again, but her lips are turned in a smirk. "Ryan, I can make any male in the village desire me...if can them, I can make Troy Bolton desire me. Just give me the night of the masque and I can assure that me and him will be betrothed by the end of the night." He doubts it. Highly. He's only met Troy once and the man reeks of arrogance and selfishness; he hasn't seen him since that first time nor has he heard of any thing that says that Troy Bolton has changed his character. Too much like Sharpay is Troy Bolton, thus the two will never be a match...God help everyone if they are.

Which he prays otherwise.

* * *

**Hours.** That's how long it's been; supper is over, but he hasn't gone up to his chamber yet...he's pacing in front of the stairs as carefully as he can without falling. His mind is going over the possibilities of Gabriella opening the door to him. Letting him speak with her. Apolo-apologize for what he had said earlier when they were in the bath...hmm...delicious memories that he will savor until he has died. Then again, with the pain of his groin standing like a knight awaiting order's he might die an early death because he is unable to sate his own pleasures when a certain young lady is just up the stairs at the very moment. Biting his inner cheek, he shakes his head and grips the banister and goes from leg to leg; debating on how to proceed...

Damn it! Why is he so nervous? So anxious? So...

Sexually needy? Shut up! Shaking his head again, he takes a stop on to the first stair; proceeding slowly. The tight pain in his groin doesn't lessen as his dream comes back to haunt him...and he's going to be in the same room as her. Behind a closed door.

Sexually dependent. Shut up!

"Gabriella..." he says to himself in a low tone, "I uh...I want to apolo-no that's...that's pathetic." Clearing his throat as he continues to slowly climb the stairs without falling he starts again. "Gabriella, I heard you weren't feeling well- stupid!" he mentally slaps his own face as he makes the top of the stairs and freezes. In what direction is her chamber? Stupid of him not to ask her, then again...what odds does he have of knowing which door she resided behind...

"Young Master?" Asks a timid voice of a lady maid. "Are you in need of help?" No, he's just...just...

In need of sexual release- shut up! "Which chamber is Gabriella's?" He asks, surprisingly enough his voice isn't chastising or yelling but calm...nervous, anxious, but calm.

"Uhm, it's just...I can show you." Her voice is soft, a flicker of fear is very obvious in her tone. Does he really put fear in his servants? "Follow me, young master."

Troy nods, holding his hand out taking hold of the lady maids elbow gently. She swallows and takes a step in the direction of east; all the while, Troy is mumbling what to say to Gabriella; when the lady maid knocks softly is when he feels his heart quicken in pace and his palms sweat. Legs wobble in their rooted place. "Should I stay with you, young master?"

Yes, please. "No, I can manage from here." Bastard! Sexually dependent bastard! Shut up! The lady maid clears her throat and walks away to carry on her duties, Troy clears his throat and knocks again. "Gabriella," he mutters to himself. "I just want to talk to you...I uh, heard you weren't feeling well-no, that won't...that's just pathetic-"

"Troy?" he hadn't heard the door open, also the smell of her skin and hair wafting into his senses had been a surprise to him. She had been bathing. Oh Lord...suddenly his mind his blank and the tightness in his groin is unbearable to ignore. "What are you doing?"

But he stomachs it anyway...what was it he was going to say?

* * *

**A longer chapter than the last! I hope you all like it! xx **

**Don't forget to review! **

**The faster ye reviews, the faster the next chapter will be up!**

**~Elena xxx**


	17. Chapter 17

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Sixteen~  
**

**"Are** you all right?" Her voice is soft, concerning. Oh, he wishes he could see her face. Then again, he remembers tracing her features with his fingers; running them over her skin, every curve of her face...her scar. It felt...intimate some how. His fingers twitch at the memory and the appendage that is adorned by every male in the village begins to harden once more; damn it!

"Uh.." he clears his throat, Troy Bolton does not get nervous. It's not in his bones to turn to a jelly substance and get nervous..so why is this happening to him now? "I er, heard you were feeling ill." Slap, he should mentally slap himself. That's the best he can do?!

"Oh uhm...y-yes...stomach ache."

"Huh," he says, scoffing a little in both bemuse and amusement. "The servant said...headache."

"That t-too." She stutters, beautiful voice she has. It's like...when he's playing a song on his piano and he let's it take control of him. Seizes him. Idly, he wonders what it'd be like...to let her voice take control of him. Take him, wrapping around him and slaying him like a dragon in a children's book. Inwardly, he sighs and physically he clears his throat.

"May I...come in?" He can feel her looking at him; her shadow is a petite silhouette- which he is beginning to desire more than music. His fingers, which twitch and itch to touch the ivory keys on his piano to feel their smooth, coldness now twitches to feel her skin - warm and soft and supple - his hands leaving goosebumps over her naked body. Swallowing again, he curses his male urge.

"Troy I...I don't think that's-"

"It'll be naught but a moment." He holds out his hand, making sure to slide a pleasant and friendly smile on his face. He can feel how nervous she is. How hesitant. How desirable- what the devil? Shaking his head, he keeps his hand out extended to her. "I want - I wish to speak with you...about what happened...earlier in the-whoa!" the slam of a door, his hand feeling like a snake was gripping tight to it.

"Sh!" She hisses, "I haven't told-I mean, my papa doesn't know about-Why are you laughing?!" Oh, is he laughing aloud?

"I'm sorry...forgive me," he's still laughing, he knows he must stop. "I just-"

"You said you wanted to speak." Her voice is stern. Firm. Gentle, yet still. And attractive. It causes Troy to sober instantly, "Uhm.." what was he about to say to her again? He chuckles awkwardly, his hands beginning to sweat.

"I just..well, about earlier.." where are his words? He's never been in this predicament before, he's never confronted anyone before and yet he felt like it was his- it is- his...duty? Obligation? To come see if she's all right? To see if she is willing to forgive him for earlier? Or maybe it's just to- "Would you accompany me to a ball?" Invite her to Sharpay's ball as his guest. Oi.

Her lips pucker, her brow furrows and she pulls at her long, brown locks of hair that hang in her face; she's taken aback by his request. "Wh...I..a ball?"

"Yes." Troy responds, clearing his throat, if he can see then he'd be staring at her. Right into her eyes. Right now? He can only imagine them. "Sharpay is hosting -"

"Oh," her voice fills with bitterness. Vulnerability? "Uhm..I don't think..I just, my papa might need me."

"Our healer is one of the best. Your father is under great care, I assure you."

"I just...don't think it's a great idea for me to go is all, forgive me." There's something bothering her, he can hear it in her voice and the atmosphere of the chamber changed. There's very little fiery spark.

"Are you all right?" Perhaps she really is ill? He has half the mind and plenty the urge to place his hand on her forehead and cheek just to check for fever...and then slide his hand lower to feel her other body parts. Oh! He must stop this thinking!

"I'm fine." She lies, "I just...I'm not great company at such things-" Boldly, he takes a step forward, does she take a step back? Is she fearing him like his servants apparently do? Damn it, he wishes he can see so greatly!

"Have you ever attended one?" He hears her scoff, he has to fight to hide his amusement. She's nervous, good. It's at least better than him being the only feeling like they could kiss the floor at any second. "Gabriella?"

"Uh," she coughs; clearing her throat and shakes her head- her shadowed silhouette is moving left to right quickly. "I er...we-well..." Troy smirks, taking another bold step forward. He wants to out stretch his hands, but he doesn't want her to get the impression that he'd cage her in. Not when she already accuses him of accusing her father-

"Come with me then." Smooth. Very smooth.

"I-I..."

"I don't take no for an answer, Miss Montez." Biting her lip, Gabriella looks at her feet. Bare and ...plain. Not dirty like they usually are when she walks the dirt floor of her family's small home. "Look at me...please." Holy- did he just say? The thought, just the very thought, that he said 'please' makes her look up at him. Admiring every curve of his face, the soft, fullness of his lips and how his nose seems to form a pointed round tip at the end...his jawline is very regal. There's no doubt that he is over "blue blood".

"Troy, I ...you really want me to go?" Before he can think or say otherwise, "yes, Gabriella, I do." Holy Hell!

"We-well..I supp..I .." why is it considerably warmer? Maybe she should put the fire out? Take the blankets off her bed...has it always been this warm?

"It's in a few days. Sharpay didn't give me a date-" her heart sinks, every time she hears that name, it's clear how the blond feels for him..maybe he feels the same for the blond, and Gabriella won't stand in the way of them.  
No matter how painful for her own self.

"Gabriella," Troy says, taking a step closer and then another and then another, pretty soon she's against the doors; her back flat and her chest heaving up and down at the close proximity of the blind heir. "What is wrong?"

"I just...Sharpay seems to like you a lot." Oh, is that all? Troy smirks; trying to hide a laugh. "Don't laugh at me." His attempts fail.

"I'm not laughing," Troy whispers, "I know how she feels about me. She doesn't hide it when she's near."

"Then why aren't you with her?"

"Cause she's an annoying little barnacle who needs to know when to take the hints I send her. I'm not interested." Maybe he should think before he speaks, Gabriella shakes her head but her breath is nearly frozen when Troy leans further in; his nose barely touching hers and his lips...oh my, so close yet so far. She just has to stand on her tip toes and they would be kissing.

"So you're asking me to her ball?"

"Yes."

"What do I wear?"

"I suppose my mother can help you-"

"What about my papa? He's injured. My family? I haven't seen them in a week...I must see them." The concern in her voice is soft, but powerful, it makes Troy swallow nervously as he takes another stop closer, raising his left hand to feel her face again. If she'll let him, that is.

"Are you in front of me, Gabriella?" He asks, he hears her swallow and then her short intake of breath. But she doesn't answer his question, and he doesn't lower his hand. "Gabriella?"

"Yes..." she breathes, slowly, hesitantly, taking his hand and holding it to the right side of her face. The unmarred side.

"Forgive me?" He murmurs, leaning slowly against her forehead, he can't see her; but from her breathing is so heavy, he knows which way to lean. She sighs, wanting to pull away; knowing that she should. She's young, a virgin, and...hasn't been promised to be married to anyone. Yet.

"Troy I-"

"I didn't mean to insult your father, Gabriella." He whispers, raising his left hand to caress the marred side of her face, she backs up so that her back is against the door...or is the wall? No, this is round-  
"Don't run away from me...please..." his voice is soft, almost like a plead.

She shakes her head, he can feel her cheek against his palm; rubbing quickly, and her hair slapping gently at his skin. "I'm sorry..." she whispers, "I...I didn't mean to over-react-"

"You had every right too." He says, his voice still that low, sultry, sexy whisper.

"No," she whispers, why? She doesn't know, but she finds it hard to look else but Troy's eyes. Blind as they may be, they are a beautiful blue. Swallowing, she raises her hands, she closes them on either side of his face. His skin is smooth beneath her touch; warm, soft yet firm, and flawless. Her stomach curls temporarily with envy because she doesn't have the luxury of looking like he does. Flawless. She trails her fingers down his cheeks, over his nose, and tracing his lips...those seem softer than his face. "How did you go blind?" She asks in a whisper, if he wasn't blind, she'd be sure that he'd be looking at her.

"My story is not of any sort of importance," he says before he can stop himself; his hands sliding down her cheeks, down to her hips. Pulling her flush against himself and leaning his face into her shoulders. Breathing her scent. "Mm. You bathed since earlier."

Why does she find those words amusing? Smiling, she doesn't stop her hands from going to his head and running her fingers through his hair; pulling at the tie holding it back until it falls and hits his shoulders. Her asked question tossed to the wind, his hands sliding up and down on her sides; creating a friction that stirs something deep with in her. Her fingers dragging themselves through his hair feels like the best heaven he's ever experienced- and when he had sight he had a lot of "heaven" to experience, but he'd trade it all just to spend the rest of the night with this woman right here.

His lips softly kissing the flesh of her neck makes her moan, making her lean her head back for him; cradle his head ahead against her so that he doesn't pull away and demand that she disappears- no, she thinks, he wouldn't do that. He came into my room...for what reason? "Troy..." she asks, his name breathy on her lips as it tumbles off her tongue. He doesn't respond with anything but kisses, clearing her throat, she stops what her fingers are doing and puts her hands on his shoulders to push him away. "Troy."

He doesn't pull away, he doesn't oblige to her hands pushing him; he holds her close and continues to nibble at her flesh. "Hm..." is the only thing she gets out of him besides those blessed kisses.

"Why...oh"-his kisses are the most hypnotizing thing that she's ever- the only thing she's ever -experienced when it comes to intimacy with a man. No, she must remain focused on her words; what is it she is going to say? "Why...why..." what are her words? She leans her head back mechanically to give this man who is holding her as passionately as a lover would more flesh of her neck to nuzzle, nip, and kiss- "Why did you come into my room?" Those are her words!

Her words which causes him to stop his passionate nipping and lift his head slightly, his blue eyes are beautiful; even blind and inquisitive, they're beautiful. She lifts her head back to it's righted position, staring into those eyes and wondering what is in his brain at this moment-

"To ask you for forgiveness." He says, "for what happened..." in the bath. When he assumed- and accused -her father of being responsible for what happened to her as a child.

"Troy-"

"To ask you to accompany me to Sharpay's ball."

Her heart flutters, and soon his left hand vanishes from her side only to feel her face again to find and trace her lips. Insecurities was through her, "and to do this.." before she says anything, his lips follow along the trails of his fingers, touching her lips. Softly at first, but their assault grows harder; fiercer. His right hand grips her hips tighter, pulling her flush against him once more until there's not a nick of space between them. Her breath is caught in the back of her throat as she finds the wanton in her; returning his kiss and cradling his head at the neck to hold him to her.

It's bliss, blissfully lovely. If she didn't know what heaven was before all this, she believes that she has just died and stumbled upon it.

* * *

**Days.** That's how long it's been exactly since Gregor has been gone, it's been longer since Gabriella has been gone. Her head is aching, her cough is worse and the other children suspect that their mama is sick- or weak. Marina hates lying to her children, but she finds that when a parent is ill, it's necessary to lie. "I'm fine,", "It'll be gone by morrow." or "it's nothing, love, go about your chores or go play with your brothers and sisters...it'll pass." All common excuses that she herself uses to calm her children when she starts getting into a coughing fit. Her body gets weak, her head swims and her vision blurs. She knows she should lie down to rest when she feels all those happening to her, but she also knows that she can't...she has to strong and to be that she has to be up on her feet taking care of her children.

"Sophia!" She calls and an eight year old runs over to her from the small room that she shares with her brothers and sisters. Gabriella's the oldest, Sophia's after her, so when Gabriella marries and lives with her new husband, Sophia gets her room.

"Yes, mama?" she asks, her face a mask of concern. Marina coughs again, covering her mouth and gripping the wooden table with her hand to keep from losing her balance. "Mama, are you okay? Your pale..." the young girl goes over to her, grasping her arm and using as much of her little self to hold up her mama.

"I'm fin"- cough -"I just need to.." -cough -"to rest..." Sophia nods, helping Marina to her's and Gregor's bed; removing the covers and then replacing them when her mama is lying on the straw.

"I can cook mama, I'll take care of the baby too. I'll help." Marina smiles at her second oldest, watching as she runs into the kitchen. The baby is crying, Thomas, the third oldest - and also the next to youngest -is wailing; he is only six years, crying out for mama. She smiles when she hears Sophia comfort him, "Mama is ill, Thomas, we must let her rest." Smiling, Marina turns on to her side and closes her eyes only to cough again into her pillow and with each cough is a burning ache in her chest and the swimming of her head is worse than it ever was. She's always been a positive person, always; hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.

"Gregor," she whispers, her voice raspy from coughing so much, tears wet her eyes and cheeks. "Please"-cough-"return to me soon.."

* * *

**With** the sun on the horizon close to setting, the carriage sits behind the pub; the driver has her hood covering face and buttoned in the front so there isn't much to see of her. Her hands; small and soft looking; holds the reins and waits for her "parcel" to show. She doesn't want to do this, but if she must then she must, tapping her foot anxiously against her carriage she looks over her shoulder to see if the other carriage has arrived yet- ah, it has!

A black carriage with rotting wood, being pulled by a single horse. Black fur, black main, and eyes that seem to be black as well. The Devil's horse, they're called.

"It's about time you showed." She says as the carriage pulls to a stop behind her; behind the driver is a cage, covered with a tarp and tied down with rope and twine, she smiles like the evil little rat she is. "You have it. Good." she pulls out a bag of coins from her brasier, and the other driver holds out his leather gloved hand. Not saying a word, but he needs not to, he knows why he's been summoned. "The ball is in a few days...and I want to make sure that nothing goes right."

He nods, his hood bobbing up and down as he takes the money and clicks his reins and his carriage moves forward. As if no transaction of any kind had just happened; as it should appear, oh but everyone will see at the ball. A new source of entertainment.

A piece of insurance to insure that her future is certain of how she's been planning it. Clicking her reins, she makes the horse turn around to go back to her castle; the sun is almost beginning to set. She pulls her hood further over her head, and makes sure that it covers the peasant dress that she borrowed from the ...ugh, the woman that her brother is unfortunately doting on.

Oh well, nothing will go right at the ball. Nothing.

Not if Sharpay Evans, princess of Faerie has anything to say about it.

* * *

**:) What do you think Sharpay is up to? Is it obvious why she is trying to sabotage her own ball?**  
**Troyella Fluff! What do you think of that?**  
**And Gabriella's mother! **

**How do you think everything is going to play out? What do you think is going to happen at the ball with this "New source of entertainment"?**

**Review!**

**.**

**~Elena xxx**


	18. Chapter 18

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Seventeen~**

_**The** music twists around each person; each woman wearing a gown that flies around her legs in a spin, every man is grasping their woman by the hand and twirling them in a manner that suggests intimacy. Colourful masks glisten and glitter against the candle light that surrounds and hangs on the walls. The smell of grape wine and melting candle wax fills the air and mixes with the perspiration of the dancers. A giggle escapes her lips as she's twirled and then her breath escapes her as she is caught by the two hands by the one man that is beginning to make her feel like a giddy child who is planning to steal baked goods from the kitchen. _

_"Having fun?" He asks, his voice deep and husky; his scent smelling of musk and...something that is just him. She relaxes instantly against him; strange how she's never felt so calm with a man- any one really -and now, she...she's calm with him as if she were with her father..or any member of her family. "Gabriella?"_

_"Hmm.." Daydreaming, over-thinking. She has been doing that a lot lately, especially tonight. _

_He smirks, feeling his way to her face with her hands; his fingers touching the edge of her eye-mask. "I asked, are you having a good time?" _

_She smiles, taking his hands in hers. "Yes..." she says softly, "I'm glad you invited me." _

_"I'm glad I thought of it." His words make her smile, a blush creeps to her cheeks. He chuckles, "you're blushing."_

_"How..I thought that-"_

_"I'm blind, Gabriella." He explains, laughing, "I can feel the heat on your cheeks." Why does he always make her blush? He smiles bigger, then his smile falters, "I would like to see you blush." _

_"Troy-"_

_"I know...about your scar," he says, whispering, his lips so close to her that he's practically kissing it. "But what you look like is a mystery to me."_

_"Troy-" his finger finds her lips; her soft, delectable lips that he would gladly kiss again and again. _

_"What do you look like, Gabriella?" her eyes look at him, his eyes- however blind -are shielded from her seeing what he's thinking. His shoulders are tensed, despite the relaxed atmosphere in the ballroom. His body is covered in blue velvet trews, a white tunic underneath a pale golden fabric waistcoat. His coat is dark blue, indigo. Black boots. _

_Handsome. "Gabriella?"_

_"Troy...we hardly know each other-"_

_"ARREST HER!" The couple jolts apart, but not so far apart that Troy can't grab her hand as he listens to the music stopping abruptly, the sounds of gasps, and the frantic footsteps marching and clicking toward them. His whole body stiffens; and then the voice screeches again, this time it's closer. "She stole my prized broche! Arrest her!" _

_Troy wraps a protective arm around her waist, moving her behind him. He may be blind, but no one but Gabriella has to know tonight this at this moment. "Stay away from her." He growls, the guards; he can hear their footsteps, there's eight. _

_"Move," says one of them. A gruff voice that sounds like he has inhaled to much smoke from a fire, and another who has the grasp of a constrictor catching it's prey as it wrenches Gabriella away from him and out of his reach. _

_"Troy!" She yells, "Troy! Please! I didn't do it! Help me!" _

_"Gabriella!" His voice is echoing all through the ballroom, and soon enough it's like he can't feel the presence of others; the patrons, Sharpay...Ryan. It's just him, Gabriella, and the guards dragging her away. Her voice crying out to him. _

_"Troy! Please! Help me! Save me! Troy!"_

The echoes of the dream make him jolt away; bolting upright in his bed and sweat breaking out over his body, soaking his sheets. His chest heaving up and down; hands and fingers shaking as he tries to get Gabriella's frightened voice out of his head...it's an impossible feat, and he is failing at ridding himself of it. It's a horrid, melancholy sound...he prefers to hear her laugh. Kicking his feet over the edge of his bed, he grips the mattress; trying to slow his breathing and his heart, thinking that it's been hours since he left Gabriella's chamber to come into his and rest...

Perhaps that was a mistake to leave, his eyes widen, what if she's in danger now? If anything happens to her-

"Ow!" he curses, stubbing his toes on the stands by his bed, then stubbing his toes on the piano as he goes to the doors of his chamber. He has to check on her, see if she's all right- blind be damned, however he might have broken his toes later on...

* * *

**Their** nails tap the floor as they walk in circles before they lie down, their heads on their paws and their haunches flat with their tails either curled around their backside or pointing out from their bodies. Breathing evenly as sleep slowly drifts over them, and then the sound of a door hitting the wall behind it makes them each lift a head and let out a whine. Lorana stands on her all fours but David instantly pulls her down again by the tail before he stands, she whines, taps the floor with a paw; making him turn his huge wolf head and look at her. He nods slowly before running up the stairs and pausing to listen; footsteps coming from Troy's room, and with his vision as a wolf he has no problem seeing his son walking along the wall to with his hand outstretched.

What is he doing? He walks to where Troy is, nudges his hand with his wet nose and stands in front of him. He can practically hear his heart beating with the ferocity of a hummingbird's wings. "Go away..." he whispers harshly, David doesn't move; only nudges him some more with his nose. Troy shakes his head, "I am busy..." he tries to walk around David's massive furry body, but once again, stumbles. Blindness is a curse when you're walking- quite literally -in the dark. David whines and sits down, Troy sighs, leaning against the wall momentarily.

"I have to check on Gabriella.." that makes David's ears perk up and his haunches lift off the floor, he grabs Troy by the sleeve gently and helps him to Gabriella's room. Stopping in front of the door.

David whines, looking at Troy with his eyes and his tail barely wagging. "I can feel your eyes, Father...I can handle it from here." He whines again, pawing his son's foot; an action that, if David were human at this moment, would be a hand on his shoulder; signalling Troy that everything is okay. Everything will be okay. A sigh and a shake of his head later, he taps on the door gently.

No answer. "Hello?" He asks, tapping on the door a little louder...

* * *

**No**...no, no, no...it can't be. The sun isn't up yet, the Lark hasn't started to sing yet. Why is there someone knocking on her door? Gabriella moans tiredly, putting the fluffy pillow that lay to her left over her head as she lays unattractively sprawled across the mattress. Let her sleep...she wants to sleep. She loves to sleep.

Especially when the sun is hiding behind the horizon of the trees and hasn't risen to sing the herald of the morn. Knock knock. And then there's that knocking...

"Ugh..go away.." she gripes as she buries her face into the pillow she's using to cushion her head. Yes, she's not a before-the-dawn person. However, it's the voice that calls her name that makes her sit up; her hair all askew and her eyes tired and purple bags under them. His voice that makes her heart race, her skin heat and want for his hands...her mind race with dreams of them dancing beneath sheets and blankets.

No. She shakes her head, running a hand through her tangled locks and kicks off the blankets before stretching herself. What could he want at this hour anyway? Groaning as another knock and his voice came through again, she stands, wrapping a thin blanket around her frame, and walks to the door. Her fingers curling around the handle and turning it before pulling the door open to reveal a disheveled, tired looking Troy.

To her, he's never looked more attractive. "Troy...wha-what are doing up?" his ears perked up, as if just hearing her voice made him visibly relax- which judging by the sag of his shoulders, it did. It takes awhile for him to answer her question and when he does, it's curt and cross. Impatient.

"You took long to answer-"

"It's early...I was sleeping."

"I was knocking! Expecting an immediate-"

"Not at this hour!" She says, cutting off his words, her eyes narrowed in irritable tiredness; her voice cracks from fatigue. "Troy Bolton, I was. Asleep. If you had the gall to come to my door at this hour then you must have a different sleeping pattern!" Silence. Troy swallows before he taps his fingers against his leg, Gabriella now notices the great wolf at his side, and her heart leaps in her chest. Troy tilts his head at the sudden sound; being blind has advantages...your other senses are heightened.

"You're scared-"

"That beast..g-get...get it-"

"He's going to hurt you, Gabriella." He says, waving his hand; shooing his father's wolf form away. David takes the hint and leaves. Gabriella swallows, hugging the blanket to herself and shakes her head. "I apologize for waking you." She snaps her brown eyes to him and her gaze softens as a yawn escapes her lips.

"Why are you up anyway?"

"I..." how does he explain that he had had a nightmare about her? That he wanted to make sure she was still here? He shakes his head and vies for the obvious yet not quite truthful answer. "I couldn't sleep. Wanted to check on you." He can feel her smirk, and the heat of her blush rolling off her cheeks. Why is she blushing?

"Well...that's...sweet of you." She whispers, hugging the blanket tighter around her shoulders and leaning against the door; her eyes closing. Troy, for being blind, must have sensed that.

"I should let you sleep again..." he turns and starts feeling a long the wall, and then Gabriella grabs his hand, squeezing firmly. He stops and feels his breath hitch. Without word, he feels her walking beside him.

"Let me help." He opens his mouth to reply, but she cuts him off. "I don't like stumbling in the dark, Troy...I can't imagine how it must be for you."

He laughs, "I think I might have a few broken toes." She giggles, "well, good thing I'm helping you then." He nods, and they walk in comfortable silence until they reach his door. Should he kiss her? It's not like he hasn't before...oh, he wants to taste her again, but not just a kiss. More. He wants to taste her sweet skin, which from her hand on his, feels like velvet. Should he kiss her hand like a gentleman? No...they've already had stolen kisses, so what would that be? Still, it's polite...he has to do something!

"Good night, Troy." She begins to pull her hand out of his when he tightens his grip. "No." She looks at him, and then at their hands.

He coughs to clear his throat, "lay with me?"

* * *

**New chapter(: A little troyella moment in there for you lovely people. **

**Next chapter, I'm going to skip ahead one week for the masked ball; cause I am itching to write it!**

**Question of the chapter: What do you make of Troy's dream? Premonition or no?**

**Tell me in a review. (At which all your reviews are greatly appreciated and wanted; just as much as your criticism. Criticism makes a better writer.)  
**

**Lot's of loves,  
**

**~Elena xxx**


	19. Chapter 19

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Eighteen~  
**

_One week later_

**"I** don't see what the fuss is about, Ryan." Sharpay says, smoothing the invisible wrinkles from her gown. Made of taffeta with streams of gold flowing down from her waist which is wrapped in a salmon colour fabric, her bodice is white- covered in huge, gaudy jewels of green, pink, blue and purple. Her hair done up in a 'do that is curled in a bun and braided halfway so it flows down her back. Her mask is...well honestly, he doesn't know what her mask is. He doens't even know what she is supposed to be other than an ugly whore who hates all in the kingdom.

"The fuss?" Ryan says, sneering at his sister and picking up the ugly, shit brown horse mask and staring at it's empty eyes. "it's ugly. I'm not about to wear this-"

"but you must!" Sharpay nearly yells, looking at him with eyes that aren't pleading in the slightest but commanding. He shakes his head, his hair barely touching his shoulders at the movement. "Ryan, you have the perfect face for that mask! And...what will the guests think of it if they see their hostess wearing a horse's face?"

"They'll think, at least she has the ass to match.." Sharpay flushes pale, his eyes widening at the insult and her hands balling into fists. Ryan, his eyes sparkling with his smirk, looks at her as she glares at him and sees her lips quiver. She has never had the ability to come up with a clever response to any sort of insult.

She isn't what one would call...witty.

"You are...you-you..."

"Don't think to hard, sister." Ryan says, "you don't want to wreck your hair."

"Oh!" She screeches, "fine! Wear what you want! I care not!" Without saying anything further, she turns and marches out of his room; slamming the doors as she goes. The sound so great that it echoes in his ears, but still, he smirks until his cheeks hurt and a throat escapes his throat. Sharpay is always an easy target.

And incredibly stupid.

Shaking his head, he goes to the door and calls one of the man servants to him and he requests a costume that no one would think a royal to wear, but for him to be with the woman that his heart desires- the woman whose kiss burns on his lips and makes him hard when she haunts his dreams - he must dress in this disguise. This plain tights and gray tunic. A servant. He'll just add a silver mask to go with it.

* * *

**"I** feel completely...naked." Gabriella says, examining herself in the large mirror in Lorana's chamber, her father is sitting- leaning on a cane that the healer had brought him -on the edge of the bed. Gabriella had requested her father be in the room, but when she is changing- which this has been the third time she's changed -she stands behind the room divider. Lorana giggles, knotting her fingers together, staring out the window to check the sun. She and David has at least four hours before the sun sets.

"You look beautiful, dear." She says, a smile gracing her lovely face. Gabriella shakes her head, her curls flinging everywhere. "I wish you'd let me put your hair up-"

"No." she says, looking down, "I don't want to-"

"You have a beautiful face, Gabriella." Lorana says, making the young girl look at her. Her eyes alight with a spark that only Lorana has, "come." she pulls Gabriella gently by her arm from the room divider to where her father can see. He stares with his mouth agape, this young woman is not his daughter; his daughter wouldn't wear the finest silks and satins, his daughter wears what he wears. Rags.

This is a princess. A princess who looks like Gabriella. "Gregor," Lorana says, "What do you think? Gabriella's hair...up or down?" Gregor eyes his daughter, seeing how beautiful she is and then he looks at her hair. Brown, long, much like her mothers and he smiles.

"Let me.." he says, grasping his cane and standing up while walking to her in the same fluid motion. Lorana smiles, nodding gently as she goes to sit on the bed, Gregor motions for his daughter to turn around and sit in the plush vanity chair as he leans on his cane, weaving his fingers through her soft locks. He's taken back in his memory to when Gabriella was just seven years. Marina didn't know how to do hair, and Gregor- having grown up with five sisters -learned from an early age. "Half up...the rest just laying on your shoulders..." Gabriella smiles, dipping her head in a blush.

"Papa...I feel so strange." He chuckles, shaking his head as he continues braiding a few strands in his hands. Lorana giggles, "is this your first ball, Gabriella?" the young girl bites her lip, unanswering, but her eyes giving her away. Before Lorana can speak, Gregor pats her shoulder and smiles at her in the mirror.

"You'll be fine, Sweeting."

"Thank you, Papa." She whispers, looking at her nervously knotted fingers, continuing to bite her lip. Yes, she anxious for this masked ball cause it is first one that she's attending, but she'll be attending with Troy. He asked her to accompany him...

he also kissed her when he asked such a question. Oh, that kiss...how his lips seem to mold to hers; his fingers sending tingles up her arms, rising gooseflesh on her arms. Making every tiny hair all over her body stand up on end like a soldier- and her tiny hairs aren't the only things standing erect. She can feel him, hard, long and...so erect, when he leans against her as they kiss. Why does she want to feel that again? Why does she want to feel...more than just that...?

"Done." Gregor says, taking a step back. "Beautiful." Gabriella blushes again, standing up; smoothing invisible wrinkles from her gown. It's a soft peach colour, matching her skin perfectly; around the square neckline is white with seams of gold, in the middle of the bodice to draw so little attention to her bosom is a small pink pin. She feels elegant. Like-

"Oh!" Lorana squeals, "Oh my Lord! Gabriella," she runs up to her and grasping her hands. "You look beautiful! All you need is a-"

"Mask." she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes! A mask! Oh! But I got such a better idea-Gregor Montez, are you laughing at me?!" Gregor stills and hides his face, but Gabriella sees her father's lifted cheek; he's laughing. Lorana rolls her eyes and steps back, "I have this mask that I haven't worn in years...and it comes with these beautiful angelic wings..oh, Gabriella you must simply wear them!"

Her eyes widen, about ready to protest, but before she can the older woman is already on the other side of the room, going through a trunk that looks centuries old. Gabriella turns to her father, "Under neath all these layers, I still feel naked."

Gregor smiles, "you just have to get used to it..." Gabriella smiles for a second or so, but sobers. "How's mama, papa?"

"She's..." he shakes his head, does he want Gabriella to worry? Nay, this is a night for her. She should enjoy it. Embrace it. "She's fine. I just need to leave by tonight..."

Gabriella smirks, "you can't stay away from Mama for more than a week or so, can you Papa?"

"You are correct, now...got to Lorana, before she pulls you." Gabriella giggle, picking up the front of her gown and walking over to where the older woman is now waiting; holding a white mask, embroidered in small beads that glisten softly in the firelight, and a small white feather between the eye holes- not too large to bring attention to Gabriella straight away, but just enough to compliment the medium wings that is dangling from her small hands. Gabriella puckers her lips, about to protest about the wings, but Lorana had put them on her before she can utter a word.

"Angelic." She says, smiling proudly, grasping Gabriella's hands. "My Troy will love you."

"But-" There is a knock on the door, a servant appears just as soon as Lorana calls out 'come in'. The servant, brown and bushy hair in wild curls, soft brown eyes and dark skin, clears his throat and notifies the three in the room that Troy awaits at the bottom of the stairs with David. Lorana claps excitedly, Gregor loops his arm with his daughter's and they all make their way out of the room and down the stairs of the foyer. Gabriella is standing in front of Troy, he's wearing a white tunic top and grey tights to match; a silver mask on his face that has no extraordinary beading or...anything over the edge to draw attention to himself, but then again, maybe it's the women that attend masked balls who draw attention to themselves.

"Are you ready?" Troy asks, after a minute of clearing his throat, oh how he wishes that he can see what she looks like. All he can see is her silhouette. Gabriella nods, her silhouette bobbing up and down, he feels her hand rest in the crook of his elbow.

"Yes..." she whispers, his stomach flutters at her nervousness. His father leads them both to the coach awaiting them outside. This is a night that Troy vows to make memorable for Gabriella, he wants her. He isn't denying that any longer, he desires her, and on some level...does she desire him? He'll find out. She'll be his.

That is of course...if he can keep his "dream" from happening first.

* * *

**New chapter :) This is a part one to the Masked Ball, next chapter will be the actual ball *claps* it will be awesome!**

**Don't forget to review! I love your reviews!**

**.**

**REVIEW!**

**~Elena xxx**


	20. Chapter 20

_(Masked Ball, Part One-ain't I evil?)_

* * *

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Nineteen~  
**

**Music** plays around the room; the magnificent ball room that is decorated with streamers of gold, red and black. Lanterns hang from the ceiling in an haphazard design, but also very beautiful; resembling stars first appearing brightly after a storm. Gabriella finds herself in awe, her stomach doing flips and flopping like a fish on the deck of a ship that's been at sea for far too long. She grasps Troy's arm tightly as they climb the stairs, trailing behind a couple that is much shorter than the both of them and much more plump. "Gabriella," Troy says, she bites her lip, lifting her eyes to look at him from a sideways glance.

"Yes?"

"What does the room look like?" How he wishes he can see, but it's not just the room he wants to see. It's the girl- the woman -he has on his arm tonight. He would love to see, instead of having to imagine or having...someone else say how beautiful she is, he would love to see her. See her eyes, her face...feel her. She seems so much like a figment of his own mind that he created so he would be in company.

If that's so, then he's glad. He's mad for this angel that he may or may not have created in his own mind; regardless, he'd give anything just to see her properly. "Well?" He asks again, tightening his grip on her arm. "What does it-"

"It's beautiful." She says, looking around through her mask. "I've never seen anything like it. Ever." Why is that? Because she's never been to a ball. He feels himself smiling, imagining her smile.

"I bet it's not as beautiful as you." He whispers, she turns her head on him but doesn't speak, just stares. Did he just...no, he couldn't have- but what if he... "Is everything okay?"

"Uhm," she shakes her head to clear it, and then smiles up at him. "I'm just..nervous." They walk the few steps up the stairs to the where a man; tall, yet stout, is standing with his nose in the air and his eyes narrow as they see Gabriella and Troy. She bites her lip and looks down at the carpeted stairs, why doesn't she just become part of the wall fixtures if everyone is going to be staring at her?

The man clears his throat, reading off a parchment scroll, "Troy Bolton"- is it possible for everyone in the room to stop dancing...or whatever else they are doing to stare at the two of them? -"accompanied by...Gabriella." Is her last name of no importance? He squeezes her arm gently, yet firmly, careful when he takes a step on to the step that leads down to the ballroom floor; if he feels the eyes of everyone staring, he says naught but Gabriella is itching to turn on her heels and run out the door and just run on home to her mother's safe arms.

This is a worst nightmare that she's never dreamed of having, and yet...being here on Troy's arm. It's like the most beautiful dream.

"Would care to dance?" Troy asks, sweeping on to the floor as soon as their feet carefully touch the smooth marble; servants and guests eye them both- probably, because Troy over the years has become some what close to a reclusive hermit and Gabriella, well, she's a peasant ...not one to be invited to balls of this...caliber hosted by Sharpay Evans. Blushing, she feels him place a hand on her waist and pull her so close that she can hear his breath enter and leave his lungs. The music turns to a new song, and they are lost in a sea of masked faces and soft murmurs behind hands before Gabriella can even utter the words "Yes...please"..

And Troy's glad, because the image of the two of them dancing is one that he will like to imagine without words.

The imagination is a precious artifact of the human mind, it must never be wasted ...or used for wrong doings.

* * *

**"I assure** you, Monsignor Travis." Sharpay purrs, her blond hair done up in that...hideous do' and her eyes lined heavily in black; her gown trails the ground and billows at her feet like water waiting to drown her as she steps into it and treads it's depths. The colour is not flattering to her, and her breasts look ready to pour from her bodice at any moment a man's hand rips the fabric from her body. She wraps her arms around the man's arm and she presses herself against him, her eyes glazing over seductively, "My room is...private." he smiles appreciatively and pulls her closer- if such a thing is possible -kissing her lips and drawing his lips down her jaw and to her breasts, she moans like a petulant child wanting sweets.

His sweets that is very noticeably standing up from his trousers.

"This way, Monsignor-"

"My lady!" Groaning the two pull away from each other, albeit relunctantly, and turns toward the servant; her hair flying everywhere and her lips swollen as if she'd been indulging in the Devil's sweet, tempting kisses as Sharpay just had. The blond narrows her eyes and adjusts her mask, not bothering to adjusting her bodice. She stares the servant girl in the face.

"What is it?"

"You-you..." she stammers, bending her fingers in her hand and looking at the floor, "you have told me to-to..tell you when he and she arrive-"

"refresh my memory, serf. Whom?"

"The prince Troy Bolton and-"

"Her!" Sharpay hisses, turning towards the monsignor and smiling politely, "we'll finish our fun later, perhaps, but I must tend to these guests, they are important for tonight's entertainment." Monsignor Travis smirks, picking up Sharpay's hand and bring it to his lips and murmuring something in an accent neither Sharpay nor the servant girl recognizes as he turns to take his leave. Smiling like a foolhardy git, Sharpay turns to the servant and her face turns blank and dark. "Take me to them."

"Yes ma'am-"

"Oh and Serf-I mean...Adriana...where is my brother?"

The young girl has the audacity to grow pale and look down as her lips tremble, "I-I...I haven't-"

"I know he's here somewhere. Do me a favour would you?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Stay away from him." Adriana looks down, feeling her throat tighten but forcing herself not to cry. Sharpay is not her master, not after Ryan had asked her ...that question that makes all women swoon and fawn and dote on their man, making their knees weak and their faces blush with heat as their men kiss them with the passion of a soon to be husband. Of course she chided him on her station being much lower than his, but he says to her that he doesn't care. He loves her.

Loves. That word that she hasn't heard from anyone but her father before he died...she's proud to hear from Ryan; he makes her heart flutter. He makes her...feel like she's not an abused servant to a whore-ish princess. "Did you hear me, Serf?" Sharpay snaps at her, pinning her with a glare. Adriana nods, not saying a word. "Good." with that, Sharpay takes her leave to the ballroom to where the "stars" of the night's "entertainment" await her...hospitality.

* * *

**New chapter!(: This is the first part of the Masked Ball, I'm evil aren't I? **

**More Ryan and Adriana in this one...(is is Adriana or Ariana? Can some one please look and see for me? THANKS!) **

**There is a lovely Troyella moment in here for you *grins***

**Sharpay is a bitch as usual...hmm...oh, she's also a whore in this story, did you guys know that?**

**Don't forget to check out my NEW! story "Finding Light In Dark Places", let me know what you think of that? **I'm working on the first official chapter for that story as well...anyway, let me know what you think of that?**

**Please and thank you.**

**Reviews and criticism are greatly appreciated. **

**Love, **

**~Elena xxx**


	21. Chapter 21

_(Masked Ball, Part Two- I'm SOOOOOOO fucking sorry for the long as hell wait. I've been busier than hell and not to mention a bit of writers block clouded my head and made my fingers numb- thus preventing me from writing this next chapter of "The Pianist" I am so sorry! Really! I hope you guys haven't given up on me. I'll try to update sooner, I promise! I fucking promise...that means something if I say "fucking" ...anyway..hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what ideas you have for the next. There are about four chapters left. I have an idea of how Troy gets his full sight back. Anyhow, enjoy and please review...again I'M SO FUCKING SORRY.)  
_

* * *

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Twenty~  
**

"Having a good time?" Troy asks, holding one hand on Gabriella's waist and the other interlacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, a blush dusting her cheeks in a soft rose. "I can feel your smile..."

"I'm glad you invited me along." He smiles, tightening his hold on her fingers as he swings her in a slow, careful circle- he doesn't wish to crash into any bodies close by.

"I'm-"

"Prince Bolton!" _Crud._

He feels two slender hands grip his arm and yank him away from the woman he's dancing with, making his face turn toward a black shadow that he cannot see the face of, However, he can tell who it is. "I've been waiting for you.." oh he bet she was.

"Sharpay." he says, "uh...thanks for extending the invitation to me and Gabriella-"

"Gabriella?" she asks, her brows crinkling down the middle and her nose crinkles unattractively. He thanks God that he cannot see a blasted thing right now except for her shadow. She looks at Gabriella, wearing her gown and the mask...her hair in curly ringlets- damn her, she is attractively...beautiful looking for a serf! She stomachs her disgust for the girl and smiles like a good hostess, _all in good time_. Sharpay tells herself, _remember the plan...Troy will be yours..._

"Your...highness." Gabriella says, dipping low in a curtsy. _Oh so she has respect for the royals after all?_ Sharpay scoffs silently- unaware that Troy had heard her.

"Well...you clean up..." this is so hard for Sharpay to say, her blond hair tousled as she tries to straighten it. "...er, nice." that was almost complimentary wasn't it? Gabriella bobs her head, and hides her masked face by looking down. Troy lets out a sound and reaches for Gabriella's hand, she takes it.

"Thanks for the invitation, me and my lady have a dance to finish." Gabriella looks up at the term of endearment, did he really just say...? He takes a cautious step- why is he so cautious about everything? He should use his eyes to see! Sharpay narrows her eyes, "Troy, I'm the host of this masquerade...can you save me an after supper dance?"

How does he stomach it? "Uh-"

"Dinner is served!" The caller yells out above the din of the crowd. Sharpay smiles, grabbing Troy's hand; who in turn squeezes tight on to Gabriella's with his other as he's pulled to the dining hall.

"I have you seated by me Troy...do you mind?" Yes, he does...

"It's all right Troy-"

Sharpay stops in her tracks, whipping around to glare at Gabriella. "Are you of royal blood?"

"I-"

"No..you're not...so you don't call him by his first name, got it?"

"Sharpay!" Troy raises his voice, pulling his hand harshly out of her grasp. "You don't talk to her that way, and she can address me how she wishes, understood?"

Silence for a moment, before Sharpay's glare turns into an expression of calm cunning. "Fine." Dreading her actions, she reaches and wraps her arms around Gabriella's shoulders, "forgive me...I just...hosting is a lot of stress." She drops her pink broach into the pocket of Gabriella's gown. Part one of her plan, completed. Now...it's time for the dogs.

* * *

**His** hands wander up her sides as his lips taste hers and he inhales her delicious scent. The curtain they are hiding behind shudders from movement, she runs her fingers through his hair and opens her mouth to entwine her tongue with his. Soon, they have their tongues doing battle of the most intimate dance.

That is until bell, rang by the head butler, rang and Adriana knew that she has to pull away. "Ryan..." she whispers, pulling her head away, he doesn't grasp the message. He takes his lips to her throat and begins kissing and nipping at her flesh there. Dressing as a servant was his best his idea yet- good thing this is a costumed ball. "Ryan..the supper bell...I must go-"

He sighs, pulling away and pushing her against the wall. Smiling at her. "I can never let you go, love...I ache for you when you are gone." Such sweet words, and coming from him they are sweeter than any dessert she's ever tasted. She smiles, grabbing his face and pulling him gently to kiss his delectable lips chastely.

"I love you.." she breathes, "I wish we just leave..."

"Why don't we?" He asks, holding her tight to his chest, her eyes widen. Leave? Was she being serious when she asked that question? Oh hell, of course she was.

"Now?"

Ryan nods, "Nothing is stopping us...there are horses in the stables and everyone is at supper. We can leave right now." Adriana smiles, her eyes sparkle and she dips her head low to blush. There is nothing for her here. Not really. Her father died- she would say 'murdered' -when she was young and she's a servant to a spoiled princess who wants to destroy the happiness of others who love each other while she herself whores around.

Whore.

Still...leave? She does have friends here. But you love Ryan more, that is true; while she does have friends, Ryan cares- really cares -for her. She sighs, looking up at him again and holding him tightly. "I know not how to ride-" her words are cut off by him kissing her, and when he pulls away he is smiling brightly.

"I will ride...you just sit in front of me." Hmm...and she can lean against his strong chest while she sleeps, but there is still something that nips at her thoughts.

"But what about you title?"

"I'd soon rather give it up if it means being with you.." He'd give up being a prince? Give up all the fine things he has? For her? He is truly perfect. Adriana smiles, grabbing his hands and kissing each one of his fingers.

"Let's go then-"

"-Ah!" they jump at the scream, tumbling out from behind the curtains and running to the source of it; following the maze of the palace's lower floor until they reached the formal dining hall. More screams and what sounds like a woman's cry came from behind the door, Ryan looks at her and nods as if saying "I'll go in first and then you..stick to the shadows...don't let Sharpay see you." Adriana nods, doing as he says, he opens the doors- large and oak. Sturdy. He stops dead in his tracks when he see's a brunette huddled in a ball as a dog- foaming at the mouth with wild eyes comes near her. He looks at Sharpay who is smiling like a sadistic killer.

His blood boils, his own sister would cause others torture and emotional pain for her's and her guests amusement? The village is right to call her cruel. He steps forward, seeing Troy reaching down with his hand before he sits next to her. Rubbing her back in comfort. Doesn't take long to figure out that he is blind- Ryan figured it out days ago, but apparently Sharpay still has yet to. Stupid bitch.

"Sharpay Magnolia Evans!" Ryan yells, forcing her -and everyone, dare he say, even the dog- to look at him. He stiffens his shoulders, walking around Troy and Gabriella. Glaring at his sister, "this is what you do for entertainment?"

"Ry-"

"You cause torment to others below you?"

"Ryan-"

"Have you learned nothing from your lessons as a child? Or are you just the whoring around bitch that the whole village claims you to be?" His head whips to the side, Sharpay has a stinging hand as she glares at him. Her lips twitching as she looks at Gabriella- crying into Troy's chest, if the guy wasn't blind Ryan is sure that he would be glaring holes through his sister's scalp.

"Ryan Ignatious Evans...I was teaching her a lesson-"

"About what?" both twins look at Troy on the ground, he's still holding to Gabriella, but it's obvious he had spoken; despite him speaking to Sharpay, he does not appear to be looking at her- why would he? He's blind.

Then again, if he's pretending not to be, then perhaps he should be 'looking' at Sharpay. Sharpay sneers, "that she can't take what doesn't belong to her-"

"I don't belong to anyone Sharpay!" Troy yells, struggling to stand up, Ryan helps him as he holds on to Gabriella. He nods his thanks.

"Well, you may not..but the broach I was wearing tonight does." She snaps her fingers and several guards come forward, snatching the brunette from his arms. She starts to scream bloody murder.

"Troy!" she struggles against the guards, Troy reaches out to grasp her hand but the guards are halfway to pulling her away out side some door that Ryan hasn't seen before. What the hell? "Troy! Help! I didn't take anything! I swear it!"

"Gabriella!" Sharpay is smiling like ...well, evil, when Ryan looks back at her. However, her smile fades when she see's the disappointment in her brother's eyes and when she looks around- finally remembering that there are other guests. They are looking at her with expressions of appalled. Disappointment from her parents. The servants must be hiding in the kitchen. Ryan looks at the wall where Adriana is hiding, he sighs and shakes his head. She slumps her shoulders forward.

So much for leaving tonight.

"I did us all a favour," Sharpay says, "that bitch would've stolen us all blind, it's why we don't invite peasants to royal functions-"

"You're the bitch, Sharpay." Troy says, hiding his shaking hands. "Gabriella Montez is more of a woman than you'll ever be and she's twice the human being."

That made Sharpay take a step back, her face ashen. Lips trembling. Ryan couldn't agree more...his sister, he can swear, isn't human if she doesn't feel remorse for her actions. Before Sharpay could say anything to defend her less than moral actions, Troy takes a hesitant- Gabriella must have been his cane as well -step back. "Go to your men who you whore around with...I'm going home."

Ryan looks at him, Adriana comes running from the shadows, dipping low into a curtsy. "I'll escort you, my lord." Troy nods, not looking at her. Ryan grabs Adriana's hand, "I'll go with you."

With that, the three of them take their leave.

* * *

**Like? Love? Hate? **

**Any questions, comments, or concerns? There is a space for you to state them. It's that review slot below this chapter...:D I'm happy to answer any you have.  
**

**Again, I'm SO VERY SORRY for the wait. **

**While this chapter has four chapters left, I'm beginning to work on my other story "Finding Light In Dark Places" -the prologue's already been posted for weeks now, so go check that out when you can. I'm working (still, I'm such a horrid person) on the first chapter now. I have the chapters planned out for that story, so...ten chapters for that one.**

**After that, I have another story planned out as well. **

**(Question for you lovely people, if I write a Supernatural x Fifty Shades crossover will you read it? It would mean much to me if you did...or would you prefer a mermaid story about Troy and Gabriella? Let me know in a vote. Choice is up to you...but still, if I did...write the Supernatural x Fifty Shades crossover, would you guys read it?)  
**

**Loves,**

**Elena**

**P.S.**

**and again, I'M SO SORRY!**


	22. Chapter 22

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Twenty-One~  
**

**It** is a beautiful night for a run. The moon shines through the trees; whose branches intertwine with each other like parents holding hands with their child. The only sound is a couple of owls and a load of crickets singing their night song, twigs crunching under the heavy wolf paws of David and Lorana as they run through the woods. At first, it started out as a curse- changing into wolves each night, but it's not so bad. Four legs cover more ground than two.

_Is that the fastest you can go?_ Lorana cheers in wolf telepathy, howling with laughter; her tail swishing side to side wildly. David growls, picking up speed and his paws thumping hard on the ground as he did so. His tongue flopping out of his mouth as his head became side by side with his wife's furry hind-end.

He hears her wolfish howling laughter in front of him, he pushes faster and nearly is head to head with her- then the sound of carriage wheels catches his attention and he grabs his wife by the tail; causing her to howl in pain and stop immediately._ What was that for?!_

_Sh-listen!_ David shushes, whining and pawing the earth, his ears twitching until they focused in one direction. Lorana twitches her ears, her eyes moving all over the place; scouting the trees and bushes for any sort of a threat, she doesn't see known, but she hears a carriage.

And voices. _Those voices...one of them sounds like-_

_Troy._ David finishes, _come on._ They run toward the road, no longer racing but going to see what is going on. Why is Troy coming back without Gabriella? Her father will ask those questions. It's best if David and Lorana find out first. Of course, there's one draw back to this situation-

"Oh my God!" Adriana screams, David saw her through the window once he and Lorana had cleared the bushes and were on the road.

"What? What is it?" That voice sounds like...Troy? No, his has a deep timber. This one is more...well, feathered with testosterone, but not buried in it like his son. Adriana swallows, she points outside the window as the carriage to the two massive wolves running after the carriage.

"Wolves...two huge-"

Troy sits straighter, wishing he can see. He can feel the tension from Ryan and Adriana as they gape at his parents' wolf forms. "They won't hurt you..." the two look at him, eyes wide.

"Are you mad?" Ryan asks, "Their wolves-"

"Their mine."

Adriana gapes at him, she's just a silhouette to him. A shadow. He wishes he can see, but right now, he wishes he was with Gabriella. "Yours?" Troy nods, following the wall of the carriage with his hands as he pokes his head out of the square glass-less window.

"Where are they?" His question is answered by a howl, he reaches his hand out; outstretching his fingers as his parents fur tickle his skin. Is he petting his mom or dad? He doesn't know, but running along a carriage as it's moving says a lot about their stamina...

Ryan's eyes are wide, watching as Troy leans far out the window with his hand down. He's petting the beast? "Troy.." he says, "Are you mad?" To his surprise, Troy laughs and turns his head as if he'd be looking at him. Adriana is still sitting like a rock, her face ashen and pale. Lips quivering.

"They're friendly..."

"Why are they following us then?" Adriana manages to stammer out, her fingers flexing and unflexing. Ryan grabs her hand and squeezes gently, she relaxes some at his touch. Before Troy can answer, the three of them feel the back of the carriage jostle and then the driver pull them to a stop as he gets down from his seat; telling the three of them to stay in. A scream is what causes them to jump out, but Troy knows it's nothing. His father or mother probably jumped on the carriage.

David hasn't done that before. He's never jumped on the back of a carriage, but as a wolf he thought 'eh what the hell? I'll do it...'

Of course, since Lorana and himself share a mind-link of some kind when they are in their wolf forms, she can hear his thoughts and she scolded him when he frightened the driver- and it doesn't help when he tries to calm the man and all that comes out are growls. Lorana keeps telling him, _just because we are humans as wolves, we need to learn to adapt to being wolves-_

He turns his furry head to his wife, her fur seeming to just...glow at the tips in the moon light. _I'm still a man, Lorana-_

_But you frightened the man-_

_It was not intentional._

_He's pale as ice._ His ears flattened against his skull, no thoughts directed towards her but a growl. She flattens her ears and growls too, _don't you growl at me, mister. _

David growls again, the sound of the carriage passenger door shutting and then scurrying footsteps...and a scream from a woman. "Ryan, ...w-w-wolves..."

"It's all right, Adriana..." Ryan says, staring at the beast on the back of the carriage. It is a large beast, he feels himself becoming frozen as he stares at it. It's menacing and...a beautiful beast. Something nudges his legs, he forces himself to look down.._.shite!_ There's another one. His heart is pumping in his chest, but the other wolf moves passed him, going to where Troy is standing and nuzzling his hand with her muzzle. The action...it's reminded Ryan of a mother holding the hand of her child..

Strange behaviour for a wolf.

Troy swallows, twitching his fingers. His mother, in her wolf form, always nuzzled his hand to let him know which parent was which animal. "Can...you two leave me for a minute?"

Adriana doesn't nod or move. Nor Ryan. Troy sighs, "I can feel your presences from here..please, leave me be for a minute?" It seems like an eternity- or just that minute is stretched out and time freezes before he feels their presences leave and he relaxes his shoulders as he whistles softly for his father to jump off of the carriage back and come towards him and Lorana. He slowly kneels on the ground, his hand outstretched to catch him just in case he is to fall over.

"Why are you guys so far from the palace?" They whimper, he can't understand their answers but he suspects that they themselves can hear each other.

"You probably know that Gabriella is not with me"-his voice catches-"my dream...nightmare...it's happened. I tried to stop it. Sharpay is a bitch..." Lorana howls softly in agreement nuzzling Troy's face with her muzzle in comfort. He sighs, running his fingers through her fur. His father sits on his haunches beside him.  
All formal and awaiting to hear to the rest of what happened.

"I have to save her. I can't return without her-"

David growls and paws the earth_, Lorana, we can do it._

Lorana's ears perk up and her eyes glisten. _What? _

_We can go get Gabriella._ He turns his wolf head toward Troy, tilting it to the side. His son sighs, shaking his head and slowly standing up. "God, I wish I can understand you guys." Lorana nuzzles his hand again, whining sympathetically as Troy shuffles his feet awkwardly. Nervously.

"I'm sorry for how I treated you guys...you didn't deserve it."

* * *

**"W**hat do you think he's doing, you suppose?" Adriana asks, holding tight to Ryan as they stand where the horses are. They're calm. Then again, they haven't seen the wolves or the sheer size of them. Hell, the two beasts look as big as horses.

"I don't hear a gun going off...so he didn't kill them." Ryan says, Adriana sighs, but manages a small smile. He looks at her, smiling back at her. "What?"

She titters softly, letting go of his hand to cross her arms in front of her. "Nothing...just...your face when you saw them."

Ryan chuckles, but feigns an offended look. "They were huge, I am entitled to be afraid-"

"Lord Evans, some say fear is a very womanish emotion."

"Maybe I'm in touch with my feminine side."

"Maybe you are. Maybe I like it."

He cups her face gently, looking into her eyes, "I love you, do you know that?" Adriana smiles kindly, leaning into his touch and wrapping her arms around him.

"Aye, and I love you-"

The sound of growling gets their attention, Ryan helps her into the carriage; telling her to stay there and use anything she can in case the wolves get inside, she nods and curls up in a ball on the velvet seat. Ryan goes round the back, however, he stops in his tracks when he see's Troy surrounded by the two wolves. Wolves that don't show signs of attacking. Then...why the growling?

"Troy?" He turns his head toward Ryan's voice, since it's dark, he can't see the man's shadowed silhouette. Damn the witches.

"I thought I told you to leave me-"

"I heard growling. Adriana is in the carriage..." Troy bites his inner cheek, he strokes his mother's fur and makes sure his father is on his other side. He looks...like he's content with them. Like he feels safe. "Troy come on, I'll get you home-"

"I was a fool to say that I was going back without Gabriella." Lorana and David growl softly in agreement, Ryan tilts his head.

"What are you saying?"

Troy heaves a breath, David goes under his legs and he slowly sits down on his father's back and grabs a hold of his thick fur. "I'm going to get my Gabriella back." Whoa...his Gabriella? Well, mentally, he admits that he likes how it sounds.

Ryan sputters, his mouth opening and closing like a fish down at the docks before he can even get words out. "Are..are...are you mad?!"

_My son? Mad?_ Lorana growls, her ears flattening against her skull and Ryan lifts his hands in the air to show he means no harm. Lorana growls, Troy reaches his mother and strokes her fur again. "Hey...it's all right." He keeps his blind gaze on Ryan. "And ...I think I may be, but it's a good kind of mad."

"How is it good?!" Ryan asks, earning another growl from Lorana.

_Lorana,_ David scolds, she looks at him.

_What? I don't like him._

Troy knows that he's speaking true, he also knows that it's about damn time he speaks true. "I'm mad for Gabriella and I'm going to get her out of that dungeon."

"You're blind!"

"I have help." Troy clicks his tongue, David turns around and begins to go in the direction of the palace, but Ryan stops them.

"Wait!" Troy sighs, David turns his wolf head to look at him and Lorana just looks at him with her ears still flat. Ryan goes to the carriage, where Adriana immediately goes to him.

"Oh my love!" She calls, "you're safe, thank the Lord! I prayed-"

"I want you to go to the Bolton's castle. You'll be safe." She frowns, her lips forming a small pout.

"What? What will you be doing?"

He sighs, "I realize that this is the most mad thing I've done, but I'm helping Troy get Gabriella." He smirks, kissing her lips softly, "and who are either of us to stand between two people that love each other?" Those words make Adriana smile, but she frowns when he pulls away.

"I'll pray for both your safety." Ryan nods, cupping her face.

"I love you, and I'll return to you."

She smiles, "Go...Troy's waiting." He nods, kissing her lips chastely once more and going to where Troy and the ...wolves are waiting. He gets seated on the larger- however, smaller in frame- wolf. Hm, must be a female.

Troy grips his father's fur tightly. "Are we ready?" He asks Ryan, who in turn says a quick yes as Lorana runs fast toward the castle. David following with Troy. Sometimes being wolves with an incredible sense of smell is worth the curse that is placed upon them.

* * *

**I'm evil aren't I? Haha, next chapter will be Gabriella in the dungeon. I'm thinking...oh! Not going to tell, it'll be a surprise, but fair warning, this story is almost finished ),: **

**What do you think of Ryan and Adriana's reactions to the wolves? What do you think was going through Ryan's head when he saw that the wolves weren't harming Troy when he thought they would be? What do you think is going to be the fate of David and Lorana in the next few chapters as we draw close to the ending?  
**

**I'm looking forward to your answers. Please review!  
**

**Loves and Hugs to my delightful peoples who read this story and who have been with the story since the prologue. I love you all.  
**

**Elena xx**


	23. Chapter 23

_WARNING: You guys are about to see what my mind looks like, how do I mean? Well, that's easy, I read a lot of books...A LOT. So, you're about to see what kinds of books. Torture. Torture. Torture. _

_I commend you all for your bravery for entering my mind at your own risk. xx_

* * *

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Twenty Two~**

**Th**ere is no need for this. None of it. She has done nothing wrong...in her whole life. She's never stole- of course, there is that one moment when she was naught but three years of age and she had taken a piece of chocolate from the baker's sweet cart, but she was only three! She hasn't taken anything else in her life. Especially the broach that Sharpay had accused her of taking. Gabriella can swear to the ends of the earth and to the golden gates of heaven and the black fires of hell that Sharpay was born with no human heart and no compassion toward others.

Maybe that's why she whores around. "Please..." she begs, sitting by the window of the cell she was so rudely thrown in. "Send somebody...papa, David...Troy..." her heart leaps when she thinks of Troy. "I know Troy is blind...but there is so much more to him." and she's right, there is a lot more to Troy Bolton. Blind or otherwise. Folding her hands in front of her face, she closes her eyes and prays; she grew up in a strong willed christian family, she said the prayers for meals and to her siblings when they were small and still slept in a cradle. Now they are old enough to say their own prayers and blessings. Her brown hair makes a curtain in front of her face- hiding her scarred face and her lips movely slowly as she whispers the Lord's prayer to the heaven's.

Then the dungeon door opens, and the clack of heels stop in front of her cell. She knows who it is, but she tries to ignore the person.

Until the shrew voice breaks the dripping silence. "Monsters pray?" the skin on the back of Gabriella's neck prickles. "To what God?" She looks up at Sharpay sneering at her through the bars.

"I didn't do anything to you tonight...or ever." Gabriella says, finding her voice and doing her best to sound brave. Sharpay only sneers and crosses her arms over her chest.

"That's a load of crock, I saw you put my broach in your pocket." The petite brunette swallows, shaking her head and fiddling with her dress- now soaked with dampness and caked with flakes of dirt from the dungeon.

"I took nothing. Why would I take a broach?"

"Because," Sharpay growls, grabbing the bars. "You are a poor, pathetic bitch and I'm rich. Of course you'd steal-"

"I would never do such a thing! My mama and papa raised me not to!"

Sharpay scoffs, "do not play the parent card...it's old and I grow tired of talking. I've come for your first session." Session?

Gabriella flattens herself against the wall; the light of the moon making her brown hair seem almost black and the scarred half of her face is shrouded in a cloak of shadow. "How do...how do you mean?"

Sharpay only smirks with that sickening gleam in her eyes as she looks at the guard standing behind her; she jerks her chin toward him and orders him to take her to back room where there is a heavy door of steel. Gabriella doesn't like the sound of that, nor does she like how Sharpay is hiding her hands in the folded pockets of her gown. Gabriella looks at her, her heart pounding in her chest as she steps back so far that she is pressed against the cold wall. "I-I've done nothing-"

"Oh," Sharpay says with an evil, sickening gleam in her eye. "You've done everything...guard...take her to the back." The guard opens her cell, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her. Gabriella thrashes her head, trying too wriggle free but the guard has strong hands as he opens the door with his back and before she knows it she is strapped down on a wood table and Sharpay standing over her. "Guard you can leave now."

"Yes, Princess." The guard takes his leave, and Sharpay steps closer and her voice darker.

"You...you are such a peasant whore." Gabriella sniffles, wiggling her wrists in her binds.

"Please..." she begs, tears running salty tracks down her cheeks. "I didn't-I swear...please...what ha-have I done to you-"

"Troy's attention makes him blind to me cause he's with you." How stupid is she that she doesn't notice that he really is blind? "So I'm eliminating the problem."

"No..me and Troy, we're friends-"

"That's a crock, I don't believe you." Sharpay rips the sleeve of Gabriella's gown, pulling a knife from the folded pockets of her gown and touches the sharp blade to her tan skin. Gabriella's screams echo in the room, but no one comes.

* * *

**"H**ow far are we?" Troy asks, his head bobbing up and down the faster that his parents- in wolf form -ran. He isn't able to know if Ryan is beside him or ahead of him, but he does know that his parents are faster than the average run-of-the-mill wolves. He grips his father's fur tightly and does everything he can to keep his stomach from flopping as he makes a sharp turn pass an elm tree. Ryan is trying to not scream like a woman as he holds tight to the giant wolf's fur, he fights the urge to close his eyes as they make the turn. Troy's question is lost to the wind passing them...

...that is until they stop behind thorny bushes. Ryan feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest, Troy hears his breathing and wants to laugh at the blond man's exaggerated breathing. "Wolves...are...faster than horses."

"Yes," Troy says, "They are. I trust them."

He's about the only one, "I'd stick with horses."

Troy smirks, running his fingers through his father's fur as he wishes desperately to see where they are, but he only see's shadows. Fuck. "Where are we, Ryan?"

"We are...just outside the palace gates." That close? Damn, he still is trying to formulate a plan. How does a blind man take a course of action without being noticed? "What's the plan?" Good question, an excellent question; one that Troy has yet to answer cause he is still trying to think of one. _Damn you, Sharpay. _If she isn't so jealous of every good thing that everyone has then he wouldn't be doing this...Gabriella would be with him and they'd both be on their way to the palace.

_Fuck you, hell-bitch. _

"No, clue." Ryan's eyes widen as he looks at Troy, he does not like that answer.

"You don't have a plan?"

No, he doesn't. "I'm working on it..." Again, not what Ryan wants to hear.

_I'm screwed. Doomed, even. _

Ryan sighs, looking down at the wolf he's riding then he looks at the one that Troy is astride and it hits him, "Hey...Troy," the wolf he's on turns so Troy is facing him- he would've turned his head at his voice...but...eh, who is he to judge? "I got a plan..."

Troy's heart starts to beat faster in his chest, blood and ears. "I'm listening."

"Gabriella's in the dungeon right?" Troy nods, damn he wishes he can see.

"Well, the entrance to the dungeon is around back...we can go that way."

"Are you sure we won't be noticed?" Actually, no, he isn't sure about that, but the wolves should provide a big enough distraction so they can get in without problem. When Ryan stated this part of his plan to Troy, the man pales and shakes his head quickly.

"No." Ryan looks at him, what is special about these...animals?

"Troy, it's the only way-"

"I'm not risking their lives. We'll find another way-"

"It'll help us get inside without notice." That he isn't entirely sure, but it's worth a shot and who could it hurt? Troy shakes his head again, petting the wolf again.

"No, find another way, I'm not risking their lives...we'll get in, but we won't risk them."

Ryan rolls his eyes, "What are special about these wolves?" Troy stiffens, not turning his head at Ryan's voice, and not wanting to answer either. Instead, he clucks his tongue and his father slowly belly crawls on his paws to the front gate and then half runs to the back door- seeing as this used to be the original Bolton residence, he knew the grounds well. As did Lorana, who follows dutifully.

Then they stop at the small wooden door, Lorana looks at her husband, her ears flat against her skull as she let's out a worried whine. David nods his big wolf head up and down, slowly letting Troy down as he sits on his haunches. Ryan looks around, "Uh...can it let me down-woah!" Lorana had roughly sat down, causing him to flip on to the ground off her and land on his back. She doesn't like him. David let's out a Wolfy laugh, Troy sighs and strokes his parents wolf heads when Lorana walks to his other side and sits.

"Ryan, this is no time to dawdle." He says, Ryan looks at him as he gets to his feet. Dawdle? Yeah, sure...that's what he is doing. Dawdling.

"Let's just get in there..." Troy nods, Ryan grabs his elbow and leads him to the door. David and Lorana sit where they are until the door closes with the two of them on the other side.

_David, _Lorana says, _Should we help?_

If David were a human right now, he'd be smirking as he says, _Wife, I was just thinking that. Come on, we'll go find another entrance- _Lorana takes off in the direction of the grand ballroom; he follows as his tail swishes behind his legs. Tonight, while Troy and Ryan take care of Gabriella...David is going to pay old man Evans a visit. His so called friend who double-crossed him and took his throne.

The wolf in him wanted blood, and he's more than willing for this one time to let it have it. After all, a wolf has instincts.

* * *

**G**abriella is spent, her body aches and her lungs flame from the screaming. The shallow gashes on her arms and breasts hurt as if she's been run over by a carriage, and her face hurts. Gabriella shuts her eyes, trying to go to a heaven that is on another level than this earthly plane, but she cannot. Her cheek stings from where Sharpay carved her name in the flesh- her insignia is an X, bitch, at least Gabriella can read and write her own name.

She's thankful to God that Sharpay left when the commotion started upstairs, it gives her a chance to catch her breath and pray to God to take her life right now, but she isn't so lucky. Instead, she lays there in pain just wishing...

Until she hears a creaking to the door of the..cell. "Fucking hell.." a shocked gasp comes to her, followed by a familiar voice.

"What? What is it? Is she all right?" She doesn't open her eyes; she doesn't want to, what if the sweet voice that has always haunted her ever since she's first heard it is a dream and she's lying dead on the table?

"Define 'all right'.." Troy swallows, half of him dreading the sight that Ryan is looking at and thankful he can't see it, and the other half still wishes he could. Ryan takes his shoulder and guides him in, leading him to where Gabriella lays on the table. He swallows again.

"Gabriella?" He whispers, what does she look like right now? What was done to her?

The familiar voice is closer and sends a warm wave over her, she flutters her eyes open and stares up at him. "T-Troy..." he let's out a sigh of relief, and bows his head momentarily so it's resting near her bosom on the table.

"Thank God in heaven," he lifts his head and raises his hands to her face, he stiffens when he feels the cut on the right side of her face. If he is able to see, he'd be seeing red. Everywhere. "What was done to you?" He all but growls, she swallows tiredly. Ryan is set to work on releasing her wrists.

"Sharpay...she-"

Troy curses, "Ryan...would you be mad or incredibly upset if I killed your sister in cold blood?" He still holds Gabriella's face in his, oh he ...he just wants to keep her safe. Hold her in his arms and keep her safe.

Ryan snorts, "I'll hold her down for you. I'd kill her myself-"

"Why don't you then?" Ryan whips his head around, seeing the object of his rage. His eyes narrowing on her, Troy moves his hands to grip Gabriella's tightly (Ryan had removed the wrists and ankle binds).

"Well," Ryan says, stepping closer to his sister. "Speak of the Hell-Bitch and she appears straight out of the Devil's cage itself."

* * *

_**Enter dramatic music hear as the screen fades to black**_

* * *

_**There are two chapters, plus the Epilogue, left in this story. Warning, the tail end will be kind of sad- hey, sue me, I have a...weird and twisted imagination. It'll be sad and happy at the same time.  
**_

_**I hope you all like this chapter, Question(s): What do you think of Ryan and Troy's working together? Do you think Sharpay's behaviour towards Gabriella is driven more by just jealousy? If so, explain. What do you think will happen in the next chapter to our favourite couple?**_

_**I look forward to seeing all of your answers(: **_

_**Loves, hugs, and lots of chocolate cookies **_

_**Elena xxxxx**_


	24. Chapter 24

**"The Pianist"**

**~Chapter Twenty-Three~**

**S**harpay smiles, its wicked and rueful contortion of the face that is more foul looking than any scar. "If I come from the Devil's cage then where does _she _come from?" She jabs her hand; containing her knife; toward Gabriella. "I'm not the one with the ugly face-"

"Ugliness only lies deep within a person." Troy says, not loud like a yell, yet not so soft that no-one heard him. He is still heard, Gabriella looks at him, her eyes glowing in awe. Did Troy just say those words? Those words that suggest a kind of wisdom that she's only prayed for and only gained in small increments. Before she can question him, Troy feels for her waist and pulls her toward him. "And you're the ugliest women that I've known of-"

"Why do you refer to yourself as if your blind?" Sharpay snorts, shaking her head. "You have eyes don't you?" Troy smirks, tilting his head to the left.

"How long must it take you to understand, Sharpay, that I am blind?" Her eyes widen, and she looks from Gabriella to Troy and then to Ryan; her lips puckering as she grips her knife tightly in her hand and takes a step forward, Ryan makes a move to stand in front of her but she pushes pass him and glares at Gabriella.

"You turned him into some sort of cripple didn't you?"

"Sharpay-" Troy says, but he's cut off by Sharpay's shrill scream, "DIDN'T YOU?! YOU USED SOME SORT OF MAGIC ON HIM!" Gabriella bites her lip, shaking her head.

"I-I did nothing...I've only known him for a short time-"

"Bull." Sharpay says, spitting the word and nearly spitting at her. "You are a witch..you should be hanged-"

"You touch her," Troy says, instinctively taking a step forward and putting Gabriella behind him. "and I'll deal with you myself." Sharpay sneers, a scoffing laugh escaping her laugh.

"You're blind, Bolton..you can do nothing but sit around playing your dingy little piano..so what are you going to do? Lull to me death by a lullaby?"

"Sister," Ryan says, "give me the knife..you are going to far this time-"

"No one deserves happiness Ryan." She says, her voice hitting the note of hysteria, "if I can't be happy then no-one can-"

"You are a wicked princess and a whore." Ryan says, "father taught us, as well as mother, to take care of kingdom and care about the people in it...you do nothing to learn from you were taught-"

"And you do?! You left-"

"I returned! Now give me the knife!" he outstretches his hand, his fingers stretching so tight to the point of pain, Sharpay looks at his hand and sneers; twitching her head like a mad woman before she smiles sweetly and mocks a defeated voice.

"Fine. Take it." and like that, she plunges the blade into his palm; making it slash right on through his skin and exit out the other side of his hand. Ryan screams, gripping his hand and holding it to his body, he looks at Sharpay as if she's lost it. "You're only in the way, Ryan..." she looks toward Troy, "as for you, you can be blind..I can live that-"

"Thank you for the permission." Troy says, heavily sarcastic. Sharpay didn't seem to hear his interruption.

"-but it's the whore on your arm that is a problem. She must be done away with." Gabriella's eyes widen- such a simple action causes her face to hurt from the scars that Sharpay had inflicted her with. She grabs on to Troy's arm, and instinctively he steps closer to her. Sharpay fumes. "Move aside."

"No." Troy says, the blond narrows her eyes.

"I have no desire to hurt you Troy...you'd make a fine husband-"

"If I marry you, Sharpay I'll kill myself just to be with Gabriella in heaven! I'm not moving!"

Sharpay's nostril's flare as she contemplates her next course of action. She looks at Ryan, who is leaning against the wall, gripping his wrist and trying to slow the bleeding in his hand, then she looks at Gabriella and smirks. "Fine. Don't move, Bolton.." Troy narrows his eyes, wishing that he had his sight, it'd come in handy at the moment, but he can only see Sharpay's silhouette, and from what he see's is her silhouette hunched over, her shadowed hand curved around a longer shadow- the shadow he saw go through Ryan's hand. Seeing shadows is not exactly good sight, but it's helpful to some degree.

"Don't come near her." Troy says, Sharpay smirks, without word she lunges; aiming to go around Troy to get Gabriella in the heart but Troy gets in the way and the knife catches him in the stomach; twisting deep and digging itself deep into his flesh. Gasping for breath, he holds the hilt of the knife and falls back toward the wall, Gabriella, feeling tears prick her eyes, let's out a blood curdling scream.

* * *

**G**regor sighs, limping around the library of the palace. The girl, Adriana, had shown up two hours prior to this pacing and the carriage driver hasn't gone anywhere because it looks like it's about to storm and right now, the man is eating his face till it's more round than it already is in the dining hall. Oh how he resembles a squirrel feeding it's face for winter.

Gregor has this feeling...in the pit of his stomach, that...that something is happening or is going to happen. It came on when Gabriella and Troy left for the ball and it worsened when only Adriana came back- at the time he didn't know who she was. So, imagine his fear he felt when he saw that...when he asked where Gabriella is and Troy, and she could only shrug her shoulders and shake her head with that frightened look on her face.

_"I'm sorry," she says, biting her lip. "But I don't know where she is-" she's lying, her eyes are looking at the ground. An obvious tick when somebody lies. _

_"You're lying," Gregor says, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look impassive and menacing, but nothing can betray the worried hitch in his voice or the look on his face. "I don't tolerate lying..don't make me give you a whipping child, now where is my daughter?" _

_She doesn't speak, she only looks down, biting her lip and shakes her head while shrugging one shoulder. _

He's never felt more frightened than he is right now.

* * *

**M**arina coughs, wrapped tightly in blankets as a chill comes over her. Her eyes hurt to open, but she does anyway, to see her children- her younger children -snuggling in the bed with her. Gabriella nor Gregor has been home for over a fortnight, and she's worried sick. Literal on the sick; her limbs hurt her to the bone, she can hardly move and some days as the hours get colder and longer, she finds that her breathing is being stripped away from her lungs with a feral snatch.

It seems death is coming for her.

She closes her eyes and sends up a silent prayer to God, praying for her health, the health of her young sweetings, and the safe return of her darling Gregor and beloved daughter, Gabriella. She wants to see them before she dies.

If she is dying.

* * *

**"I**'m...I'm..." Sharpay doesn't know what to say or think or...what has she done? She looks at the knife protruding from Troy's stomach, Gabriella kneeling over him as she cries; holding his head to her bosom, running her fingers through his hair. Sharpay can only stand there looking lost.

Hell, she probably is lost. Taking a step back, she gathers her skirts in her fists and turns quickly on her feet, running out of the dungeon.

Gabriella can hardly breath, her lungs feel as if someone had begun pouring hot water in them and won't cease. In that matter, she'd rather take the water than see what she's seeing now. Troy grasping the wall, sliding to the floor as he holds the handle of the blade the protrudes from his stomach. Her gut aches as she puts her hands on him, tears pricking her eyes. "Troy.." she chokes out, turning her head to see Ryan...

He's gone, she frowns, where is he? It's a small dungeon and surely one of them would have noticed him take his leave if he had indeed left. No matter, Ryan isn't important..Sharpay isn't important. No-one else in this moment is important. She turns toward Troy again, helping him gently to stand on his feet. "Wh-why would you do that? That blade...'tis wasn't meant for you."

"Heh.." he chuckles lamely, "I wish...I can see you, Gabriella.." his voice is a whisper; a pained whisper. It makes her heartache.

"Don't..." she sobs, trying to make him stand on his feet without him falling on top of her. "This is not goodbye, Troy Bolton, you hear me? You are not going to die..not yet." she begins to drag him slowly to the door of the cell- seeing a light of a silvery glow, she can only guess that the two left the door open from when they came in. So tis wasn't hard to find the door. She balls her hands into fists in his tunic; his bloody tunic which soaks her hands.

His breathing is laboured, sweat beading his brow as he feels snow bunch around his ankles as soon as they get outside. One more step, just one...

He falls to the ground; the knife twisting further into his stomach as he does, Gabriella shrieks. She rolls him on his back, staring into his glassy, blind eyes. "Troy...please, d-don't die?" he swallows, wishing he can see her but at the same time, he knows that she is crying...he doesn't want to see that. He's imagined her so many times in his mind to what she looks like based on things that he already knows. How she feels when she's surrounded by water and laughing when he's assaulting her with tickles...

_"Ah ha ha!" She tosses her head to the side, "Troy! P-ple...sto-stop!" He laughs at her pleading, tickling her more and more. He shakes his head, scooting closer so that his knees touch the wall of the tub. And his shaft is now stabbing her pleasurably in her sex._

_"No. You splashed me. I'm punishing you." Oh this is a punishment? Gabriella laughs, trying to grip his shoulders but it's near impossible when he is tickling her with such ferocity. When she finally manages to grasp his shoulders, she pushes him back, straddling him- where had the bravery come from? The water sloshes around them, and suddenly all playful fun stops when she realizes how close their faces are. They are both breathing heavy, she clears her throat as she slowly brings her hand up to remove some of his wet hair out of his face. He really is...quite a beautiful man. Handsome and sturdy. She's aware of his hands on her hips, but does nothing to tell him to remove them; he does that himself when he slides his left hand up her side, stopping at her shoulder when she tenses at how close he is touching her dismantled looking face. "What do you look like Gabriella?" He whispers, playing with the tip of her now-damp hair. "I want to see you.." _

He doesn't regret that particular day, even if it did end with her being offended at his words. He apologized, she accepted and for the he's grateful. He's glad she let him see her...let him feel what she looks like...if she hadn't then-then she wouldn't mean as much to him now. He ...values her. Her friendship, it's strange how he didn't know that until he was marked by the tragedy the wenches have brought him. He used to see it as a curse, being blind to nothing but a world he can create with his music...but it's not a curse.

It's a gift. It's a gift cause Gabriella was brought to him...

"Nay!" She cries, her voice sounds far away, but he feels her holding him. Like a babe. The thought almost makes him smile, but the knife in his stomach is a reality bringer. He's dying, and there's naught that can be done. "Don't close your eyes Troy..don't!"

A hollow laugh escapes him as he squints his eyes, seeing a blurry shadowed silhouette, "forbidding me...to die...are we?"

"None of this is funny, Troy.." she cries, bowing over him and taking him in a fierce hug as greif overwhelms her. He wants to hug her back, reassure her that all is well, but he knows differently...

"Go home, Gabriella." Troy says, she pulls away. He can feel her stare. "You have a ...a family.." he feels her hand on his face, her breath on his mouth. The moment is...almost romantic.

"I'm not leaving you here-"

she twists her head around, seeing the two great wolves come close, bowing their heads and their ears flat against their massive skulls. Fur matted with some sort of dark ...the sun hasn't risen, so Gabriella can't tell. She looks back at Troy, his breathing is more shallow and his heartbeat fading. Eyes drooping closed. "Nay! Don't! Troy..." the wolves are by her now. She bends over Troy again, hugging him fiercely and letting her hot tears soak his tunic as his heart all together...just stops.

"Ple-please..." she sobs, clutching him tight. "Tr-Troy...don't leave...pleas...please..." A chorus of howls echo through the still air behind her.

There is a moment when we all wish can make the clock reverse and do something over again, then there are moments that we wish we can go back and erase all together. Troy's death...Gabriella would reverse that if she could, she'd go back to the moment just before Sharpay's knife plunged into his stomach and made him bleed. Moment of vengeance...

Then ...a moment of redemption. Her lips are next to his dead ear, her fingers running through his hair as he tears don't stop flowing down her face; she doesn't hear anyone come up behind her until one of the wolves start growling that makes her look up with a tear stained face. Suddenly, boiling anger and hate swim through her veins. She stares into the eyes of the man who came in with Troy but left right before his sister committed a horrible act of murder. "Leave!" She screeches, her voice hoarse from crying.

"Gabriella-" Ryan begins, but he's cut off.

"I said leave!" Lorana growls, moving to stand next to her; ears flat against her skull. _You should listen to her, boy. _There's no mistaking the hostility in the air. Ryan holds up his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry..." he whispers, Gabriella narrows her eyes; not moving Troy's body from her knees. Ryan repeats, "I'm sorry I left-"

"It should be you she killed...Troy did nothing to deserve death."

"You're hysterical-"

"I love him!" she yells, making Lorana and David look at her. She looks at Troy, moving hair out of his closed eyes; his peaceful face in eternal in sleep. She whispers again, testing the words on her lips. "I love him...in the short time I've known him..." she means every word.

"Gabriella," Ryan says, more in a whisper, "he has to be buried." tears fall down her cheeks again, the reality of everything. Her hand balls his tunic into her fist.

"...he's...he.."

_David, _Lorana says, her ears twitching. _What about the curse on us? What happens now?_

A whine escapes David's muzzle as he sits on his haunches, ears flatter against his skull as he paws the earth in distress. _I don't know...but Ryan is right, Troy has to be buried. _

_Not here. Not on lands that used to be ours.._

_Then where, Lorana? _

Silence...and then._ Let Gabriella choose._

* * *

**T**hey bury him in the forest; a long way from the castle where he died, but a short way away from the mansion where he would always be remembered for playing music that is so otherworldly that it can take you to worlds. Somber worlds that are hues of grey's and blues whites. Excited worlds that are hues of fiery red's, orange's, yellows...pinks...blacks. Worlds of music that can make anyone stop in their tracks and just...sway left to right as it dances around them. Music that made Gabriella's heart squeeze, and her heart squeezes now that she's looking at a stone that bears Troy's name. Tears running down her eyes and blur her vision, Lorana and David sit at her sides- the sun is nearly risen and they haven't turned back yet.

They fear the worst, but they'll make the best. Ryan is at a loss of what to do, Gabriella won't let him comfort her...won't let him speak to her. She just stares at the stone and cries, her fingers running through the fur of the two wolves at her sides.

"I should go," he whispers, but it's lost on the breath of dawn. Soon everyone in Faerie will be risen, a new day must begin, farmers set to work and the village waking up to greet people passing through.

He turns and walks away, his head hanging low. He goes to get his woman, but he won't breathe a word of what's happened to her; he doesn't want Adriana to worry and it's not his story to tell.

Sighing deeply, Gabriella wipes at her eyes only to have more tears fall. Lorana looks up at her, nuzzling her hand with her muzzle as she then looks at David, _I'll take her home._

David nods, _I'll return her father._

* * *

**First, DON'T HATE ME! I am going to bring Troy back from the dead...I have a plan. It's part of how he gets his sight back-oop! I said too much! Well...not telling you anymore. Such as who finds him ...*cheeky smile* just have faith that I am bringing him back from the dead. **

**Secondly, I felt like crying the whole time I was writing his death! That's another reason why I'm bringing him back...his death was sad...so I'm making the epilogue happy. :D**

**Thirdly, Like? Love? Hate? Review!  
**

**Loves + Hugs,  
**

**Elena xxxx**


	25. Chapter 25

**"The Pianist"**

**~Epilogue~**

***Two Days Later***

_**S**weet revelation. Sweet somber song_. Wind blows over the grave, blowing leaves over and around the stone that bears the name _Troy Bolton_. It's a biting chill, with miserable grey clouds surrounding the village; no-one ventures hear save for the brunette with the scarred face, but she hasn't been here today. Perhaps that is a blessing, no one can hear the singing of angels but the dying, no one can hear the speaking of angels but those who are chosen to hear them. No one can see them without their eyes burning without being chosen.

Perhaps that is why it happened the way it did. The wind blowing fiercely and a light; pure white and white hot in everything good; plunges down from the heavens and shakes the earth as if someone digging through the dirt with only their bare hands.

There's a lot on this earth that cannot be explained, but then again..._crash!_ a hand comes from the dirt; covered in grime and mud.

Somethings are better left without an explanation...until later.

* * *

**That's the end! *yes I left it open for a possible sequel* I am happy for all the followers I had for this story since the beginning of it. Told you I'd bring Troy back from the dead...**

** Final question(s): What did you think of the ending and everything leading up to it? What do you think awaits for Troy now? What will Gabriella do if/when she finds that Troy is alive? David and Lorana, do you think they are to be wolves forever?  
**

**I really want to see your answers on this. Please, answer. **

**Loves + Hugs,**

**Elena xxx**


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